Arcadia
by Natsuki
Summary: Manga universe spoilers for the last chapters. Maron realizes that her search for happiness is almost over, but some troubles are not easy to deal with, especially familial trouble.
1. Shiawase ni...

Arcadia NOTE: This is the manga universe, set in the middle of the very last chapter. It fills in some of the time inbetween the final battle and the years afterwards. Koron is Maron's mother; Takumi is Maron's father. Thanks, Meimi-chan~! 

Disclaimer: I don't own Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne. It's Tanemura Arina's intellectual property, and I really don't want to steal it. I can't draw that well. ^_^;;   
*** 

All the stops had been pulled out; police cars, helicopters, even that odd experimental robot that one of Miyako's father's divisions had been working on were surrounding the camp while officers by the dozens combed every inch of the quiet area. 

It was, then, no surprise that Miyako herself was in the middle of it, one hand still clutching that precious picture and the other holding a radio up to her mouth. "I don't care how many favors or bribes you have to offer, I want more men looking for them!" she said, her voice harsh and angry. Minazuki, looking vaguely confused, was pointing out where he'd last seen Maron on a map of the camp, while occasionally stealing a glance at Miyako. 

"Thank you for your help, lad." That was one of the officers that had been questioning Minazuki. Miyako dropped the radio and stomped over to the helpless boy, snatching him by the arm and hauling him aside to a quieter area -- if any area could be called 'quiet' in the mess -- to talk. 

"Chiaki and Maron will come back. They have to. God won't let them die, right?" Miyako's voice had lost all of its fire, and her former anger was turning into something that almost scared Minazuki: real fear. All he could do was nod and offer her a small bit of reassurance, as unsure as he was. 

A bit of a commotion drew Miyako's attention back to the crowd. Wiping away her tears on her sleeve, she ran back, trailing a very confused Minazuki behind her. What they discovered was the last thing they'd expected. 

"Yes, this is Toudaiji, nyo." Her father was speaking into his cell phone and looking more clueless than usual, while officers, their faces grave, stood around him in a ring. "Kusakabe-san? Your daughter?" 

Miyako broke through the officers, using her elbows to good use to force them to let her through. She snatched the phone out of her father's hand and stared at it for a moment as the voice continued to explain. 

Gathering her courage, she lifted the phone to her ear:   
  
"... we have finished our work abroad and are at the airport now. As I was saying, we were worried about our daughter, Maron?" 

Deep breath. Miyako closed her eyes, shaking her head silently as Maron's father continued to talk about how they had suddenly realized that they were missing so much in their lives. How to tell the man, after so long, that he'd first of all neglected his daughter, and then that he might never see her again? 

"Yes, yes, Kusakabe-san. Maron was fine the last time I saw her." She paused, ear still to the phone. "The number you have is my father's phone; I'm Miyako. If you remember me." At that, her voice turned cooler. Anyone who couldn't remember to even call or write his daughter probably wouldn't remember his daughter's friend. "If you can, come to the campsite outside the city -- you can follow the signs along road and you will find it." 

There was a pause at the other end of the line as Maron's father took a deep breath. "We will be there. And... Miyako, I'm sorry. For not remembering anything." 

Was it just her, or was there a faint note of puzzlement in his voice? Miyako nodded, then realized that he couldn't see her and sighed. "There's one more thing. Maron is... she's missing. We don't know where she went. Someone else-" She wasn't going to tell him anything about Chiaki, oh no. "-is missing too. We're in the process of looking for them." 

"We'll be there as quickly as we can," he said, then hung up abruptly. 

*** 

"Missing?!" Kusakabe Koron stared at her husband, brown eyes wide and frightened. Her headband drooped over one eye for a moment, then was angrily pushed back. "Where? How? Why? I don't even know why I left, and now she's missing? I'm so sorry, Maron..." 

For that matter, Takumi himself couldn't understand why they'd left. Something about work being far too important and family being something he could not handle. Those reasons seemed nonsensical now, but there was something not quite right about those memories. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and wrapped an arm around Koron. "We've lost her, haven't we? Our daughter..." he said. 

Koron looked up, one arm wrapped securely around his waist. "I hope to God that it isn't true. It can't be true. We only just woke up..." 

"I know." That said, he dropped a kiss upon her forehead and went to rent a car. 

*** 

The search continued, with Miyako and Minazuki joining the forces as they combed the surrounding grounds, discovering a recent rockfall which sparked a momentary panic in the search crew. "She's not there, but check anyway!" Miyako shouted, leaving the men to the task before bolting back to the temporary center of operations. 

Minazuki continued to trail along behind her, hard-pressed to keep up with her movement. To him, it seemed like she was organizing every single part of the search without the barest bit of hesitation. "Toudaiji-san..." he said weakly, having finally caught up with her next to her father's car. "Perhaps... we should wait for some new information before we continue searching." 

She seemed to deflate, curling in on herself. Minazuki was startled by her expression. "I can't believe we can't find her. It's worse than Jeanne." She twitched uncomfortably, her shoulders arching upwards, then falling in exhaustion. "I'm going to kill her when I find her." 

Just then, a commotion arose; the screech of tires and the squawks of outraged officers attracted Minazuki's attention and he turned to face the source. Miyako had already bolted away to deal with it. He had no choice but to follow her. 

The car had apparently entered the area without permission, he noted as Miyako continued to talk to the man inside. "Toudaiji-san?" he asked, gesturing with one hand to the car. 

"Maron's parents." Her reply was clipped and curt, her lips set in a thin line. "They finally arrived." Turning back to the car, she nodded at the man inside. "Come out and we'll tell you what we know so far." 

*** 

The drive had been difficult, with Koron alternating between calm, anger and fright. He himself had had a hard time keeping his mind on the road and watching for the signs. When they'd arrived, he had lost his temper with the people guarding the entrance and had simply driven past. 

"Toudaiji Miyako?" The purple haired girl seemed to spark a very vague memory in his mind. "I'm Maron's father. Have you found her?" Takumi asked. 

"No, we haven't, Kusakabe-san." Miyako glanced over her shoulder at a boy who'd just come running up, said something inaudible to him, then turned back. "Come out and we'll tell you what we know so far." She gestured to a table in the middle of the chaos. 

He got out, then opened the door for Koron. "They haven't found her," she said, taking his arm as she stood. "I heard." Her hysteria had disappeared in favor of a cool facade. They walked, arm in arm, to where Miyako was waiting, resting one hand upon the table. 

"What we know is that Maron and a friend-" Did he detect a small note of hesitation on that phrase? "-disappeared without a trace into the forests. We have had teams combing the area, but we haven't found a trace of them. They vanished into thin air, so to speak." Her voice was flat and controlled, but he could hear the worry behind it. 

The boy nodded, green eyes containing the very same worry. "Kusakabe-san, we're looking everywhere for her." 

"Thank you." Koron said, nodding her thanks to both of them. "I'm happy that Maron has friends like you." She tightened her grip around his waist, her hands trembling ever so slightly. He patted them, and she looked up. "We have to find her." 

"Actually, you could most help by staying here." Miyako was nothing if not direct, in his opinion. "We have as many men out looking as is efficient. Any more, and they'd be tripping over eachother. I'll have some seats brought over, if you like." 

The boy with her -- she had introduced him briefly as Minazuki, their class president -- tossed her an odd look, but stayed silent. He had to wonder about that, though. "No. We'll stay standing. Then she'll see us when she is found." 

He could only pray that she was found. 

*** 

"MARON!!!" 

"I'm so sorry!!! I'm so sorry! I was very, very bad!" 

Heads whipped around as the shouting began, including Koron's. Minazuki and Miyako were crowding around Maron -- when had she grown so tall? -- and a boy. Koron watched in amusement -- now that her daughter was found, safe and sound, she could breathe once again -- as his expression turned vaguely green at some comment from Miyako. She looked up at her husband, a faint smile on her face. "I think she told him that we're her parents." 

"A boy?" he asked, then smiled. "Shall we go say that we're home?" 

And so, arm in arm, they walked back into their daughter's life -- and, unwittingly, into the workings of Heaven, Hell, and Mankind. 

"We're home, Maron." 

"FATHER! MOTHER!" 

Koron gathered her daughter into her arms, eyes wet with tears as the reunited family drew comfort from the hug. Her husband was smiling, and his eyes glistened suspiciously, though she knew he'd never admit it. Maron was sobbing in her arms. "We're so sorry, Maron... we never should have left." 

"Let's go home." 

*** 

Parents. Maron's parents. Chiaki hung back as Maron found what she was looking for in her parents' arms. Miyako and Minazuki were grinning foolishly at both he and the small family -- that, at the very least, should've made him uncomfortable, but somehow it didn't. 

The irrepressible joker in him recoiled from the ideal of explaining his and Maron's relationship to her parents; how to not only tell them that he was flat-out in love with her (that, he couldn't deny, though he barely believed that she still loved him after everything), but that they'd saved eachother's lives multiple times over. He took a step towards Maron, worried at her continued sobbing. "Maron?" he asked, taking another slow step towards her. She turned away from her parents, mixed tears and blinding joy upon her face. He relaxed, letting out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. 

His love for her was impossible to deny. He opened his arms, and Maron walked into his embrace, leaving her parents to stare at him. He looked right back, arms wrapped around his love's waist, then broke off the glance to grin at Maron. "If you ever go more than ten feet away from me, I'll..." 

She beamed up at him, then wriggled around in his arms to face her parents once again. "Mother, Father, this is Nagoya Chiaki. I love him." He struggled to contain the pure joy those words brought him. She was his, and he hers. 

Her father frowned briefly, blue eyes fixed upon him. "I expected as much." His expression softened, as did his wife's. "Maron, we have no right to tell you anything. You've grown up without us; we left you to grow on your own, and we don't even know why. The most we can ask is that you'll let us become a part of your life again. We can't tell you who to love." He coughed at those words. "Though..." Again, his gaze fell upon Chiaki. "If you ever hurt my daughter, I swear to God that you will regret it." 

The irony of those words forced a chuckle from Chiaki. With God himself watching over Maron in particular, he'd regret it doubly. Solemn once again, he watched Maron's father and mother, noting their closeness. "I would never do anything to hurt Maron. Ever. She's the most important thing in this world to me. I love her." he said, arms tightening around Maron. 

Miyako, who had remained oddly silent throughout the conversation, spoke up. "I can attest to that," she said, much to Chiaki's surprise. Her face reflected her emotions, mixed as they were; joy at having them back, pain at having lost what she'd thought was love, happiness and sadness and all the empathy she was capable of. A breath of wind stirred her hair, and she smiled. "Chiaki would never intentionally hurt Maron, no matter what the temptation." 

Chiaki blinked at her, then smiled. A touch upon his hand drew his attention back to Maron as she laid her hand over his. "Shall we go home?" she asked softly, leaning her head upon his chest. He twined a strand of hair around his fingers, then nodded. 

"Let's go home." 

Of course, they were completely unaware of the many hankerchiefs and damp eyes that surrounded them: the entire police force as well as their class and assorted teachers (except, of course, Noin) were watching the reunion. 

*** 

Koron prowled avidly around the small apartment, seeking any small indication of her daughter's feelings and memories in the photos and knick-knacks that were scattered around with artistic taste. She certainly couldn't fault her daughter's decorating sense. Takumi was out on the balcony, having retreated there with Chiaki earlier. 

There. A small framed photo hung in a cozy nook of the living area. Koron leaned over the seat to peer at it. The bright colors of an amusement park filled the background - that, in itself, brought a smile to her lips - while Maron was apparently attempting to chew Chiaki out over an ice cream cone. "Maron," she called, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter. 

Maron was in the kitchen, a frying pan in hand (though Koron had to wonder if there was anything in it). As her mother watched, she stole another quick glance out to the balcony, a mixture of worry and determination upon her face. "Maron." 

"Ah? Mother, do you like gratin? I was going to cook, but..." she said, trailing off as she looked at her mother. "Is something wrong?" 

Koron shook her head, then gestured to the framed photo. "You've known Chiaki for a long time?" she asked, and was startled to see a small, secretive smile briefly appear upon Maron's face. "I saw this photo-" again, she gestured towards the picture "-and I was wondering about the story behind it." 

"I've known Chiaki for longer than most people think." Maron smiled and set the frying pan down upon the counter. It was empty, as Koron had thought. "But I should tell you about that later." Again, that secretive smile appeared, and again, Koron had to wonder about the cause. 

The sound of the door sliding open broke the uncomfortable silence. Koron smiled as Takumi and Chiaki re-entered. Her smile widened as Maron walked over to Chiaki and drew him aside. A questioning session, to be sure. 

*** 

"Chiaki, I don't know what to say or what to tell them." Maron was comforted by the warmth of Chiaki's arms around her, but the worry still remained. "I don't know if they really know why they didn't come back, or if they were somehow led to believe that I didn't need them." 

Chiaki looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed. Relaxing, he smiled down at her. "Tell them tomorrow. You look exhausted." he said, rubbing her lower back soothingly. He always knew, Maron mused, when she was tired. And she was; it had been a day of far too much emotion. 

Fin was dead. She accepted that. But there was nothing that would make her feel the loss any less. Her parents had returned, bringing their missing love into her life. She had found happiness with Chiaki, but she had lost two precious people to her: Access and Fin. 

"I am, you're right, Chiaki. I don't know how to deal with all... this." A wave of her hand indicated her parents talking on the couch, the open door to the balcony where a small wind occasionally pushed the light curtains in and finally came to rest on his chest. A momentary flash of curiousity caused her to look upwards. "What did Father have to ask you about?" 

She could've sworn that Chiaki sported a wolf's ears and tail for a moment, so mischievous was his expression. "You, mostly. How long I'd known you, what you liked to do, little things like that." He smiled. "Also, what I planned to do in the future, and a little about... me." 

Maron chuckled quietly, then glanced back at her parents. Slipping reluctantly out of Chiaki's arms, she caught his hand and hauled him over to another seat, settling snugly beside him. He was warm; she'd never be cold or alone again. "Mother, Father, do you have anywhere to stay?" she asked. 

"Ah, actually, no, we don't." Her mother looked embarrassed as she straightened her headband, her other hand resting in Takumi's. "We only just found eachother at the carousel. It was like waking up from a dream, somehow." Even as she said it, Maron saw her frown in confusion. 

Chiaki leaned forward beside her, a slight smile upon his face. "I know of a place you can stay. If you don't mind the others living there, that is." 

*** 

"Chiaki-sama!" Kagura said as he opened the door. "And Kusakabe-sama, as well! And... Kusakabe-sama's... parents?" Maron nodded at the last, offering him a smile. "Please, come in. I'll tell Chiaki-sama's father that you're here." He let them in, then walked off towards what Maron knew was Chiaki's father's office. 

Her parents were, she noticed, glancing around curiously. Chiaki was leaning casually against a window, one eye on the setting sun displayed therein. "For once, I guess I'm glad my father lives here," he said in a voice soft enough that only she heard. In a louder tone, he continued, "All these rooms are pretty much empty. Since my mother died, Dad hasn't had many people here." 

"For good reason. No-one could light up a room like your mother, Chiaki." Maron turned to see Chiaki's father heading towards them. "Maron-chan is very much like her in that respect." 

Out of some deep little spot in her mind, a thought made itself known: when he got older, Chiaki would look even better than his father. She contented herself with a small inward smile at the image. There would be plenty of time, she was sure. 

Kaiki offered her a smile which she returned in kind, then turned to Koron and Takumi. "Ah, I see where Maron-chan inheirits her beauty. Did you just arrive? And seeing your lovely daughter after so long... you must be exhausted. Come, come, I'll show you to your rooms. You can stay here as long as you like." As he passed by, he tossed Maron a wink. She sighed, relieved that he understood - she needed time to decide what to do. "Takumi-san, I read several of your articles on the development of theme parks..." And, barely ceasing to talk, he led the bewildered pair away. 

"That's the first time he's really mentioned my mother for a long time." Chiaki said, still leaning against the window. "I'm happy that he did." He raked a hand through his hair. His hands had always fascinated Maron. "Come on, Maron. Kagura can drive us home." 

Home, at that moment, sounded like a lovely idea. Maron nodded, and he reached for one of her hands to clasp in his. She was content in that moment to just be with him. 

*** 

"Thank you, Kagura-san," Maron said, smiling at the driver. He simply nodded and drove off, leaving Chiaki and her standing in the orange glow of the sunset. "Home. It's good to be home." Her hand was still in Chiaki's, and remained there as they took the elevator up to their floor. 

Opening the door to a silent apartment was still painful: there was no Fin to greet her. "She'll be back." The murmur was as soft as the hug that followed them. Chiaki had guessed where her thoughts were going. "God said so. And I can't imagine that Access would let him forget his promise." That brought a smile, albeit a weak one. 

She didn't release his hand as she entered the apartment, hauling him along behind her. Once the door closed, she leaned back, secure in the knowledge that he would be there to comfort her. His warmth soothed away many of the doubts, but one still remained. "Chiaki, what will I tell them? They know that there was some reason that they left. Miyako knows now. About me, at least. I think she knows about you as well, but I'm not sure." 

As she talked, she removed her shoes and put on her slippers, leading him to the couch they'd so recently vacated. "My parents don't know. They should know, though. At least, some of it." 

"Think about it when you've slept." His smile grew teasing. "Shall I tuck you in? Or-" That smile became warmer and his eyes softened. "-shall I stay with you tonight?" 

She put her head upon his chest, listening to the reassuring thump of his heart. She could feel his hand upon her waist and she could feel him kiss the top of her head, but she didn't move. Suddenly, Maron was so tired; the weight of the day's actions seemed to be forcing her eyes shut. Gradually, she slipped into sleep and the waiting darkness. 

*** 

Chiaki watched as Maron slept, curled up in his arms. "I love you," he murmured, standing and cradling her tenderly. She looked even more beautiful with every passing minute, and all the more innocent while she slept. 

Making his way through the apartment with sure steps, he paused at the entrance to her bedroom. A light wind ruffled the curtains, making them billow inwards. Chiaki smiled and, still holding Maron in his arms, walked over to the bed, placing the sleeping girl under the covers. As he tried to move away, her hand closed upon the fabric of his shirt, pulling him gently - and unconsciously - back to her side. As he slipped under the covers, the grip eased until Maron dropped into a deeper sleep. 

He studied her face, his nose mere centimeters from hers. She still looked tired; her skin was pale and there were faint smudges under her eyes from the exhaustion of the day. Yet still, she was the most perfect thing in the world to him. Kissing her gently and wrapping an arm around her, he drifted off to sleep, happier than he'd been for a very long time. 

The light breeze died down to a whisper as the two lovers dreamt of their many tomorrows. 

*** 

Nagoya Kaiki shut the door behind his guests with one final smile before letting his shoulders slump wearily. The quiet murmurs from within reminded him of what it was like to have others in the house - rather, other than servants and Kagura. 

Walking down the hall, he paused at a particular painting, set in a simple frame and lit by soft overhead lamps. "She did me a favor..." he murmured, trailing one hand down the smooth wood that surrounded the painting of an angel. Delicate oils and precise mixing of the paint produced a luminous quality. That was the only explanation he could come up with for the way that it appeared to glow from within. 

He reached out, his hand pausing just before it touched the angel's face. He had no pictures of his first wife, Chiaki's mother, his Mizuki; he hadn't wanted to remember her after she'd died, leaving him with a young Chiaki. "Jeanne, thank you for giving me this." 

With another slight smile, he left the painting behind and unwittingly, a quiet Koron. 

"Jeanne?" she whispered, frowning at the painting. "It's beautiful." She shook her head, unable to dispel the sensation that there was something she was overlooking. Motion at the end of the long hallway attracted her attention as Chiaki's father finally turned the corner. 

The door to their room opened and Takumi looked at her. She gave the painting one last curious look, then smiled at him. "Yes, I'm coming, love." 

*** 

Miyako was curled up on her bed, her head resting against the wall and her arms around her knees. The view from her window -- she was lucky enough to have the room with a balcony and a view -- was a bright canvas of lights, both electric and starlit. "Maron's safe. Chiaki's safe..." She trailed off, a frown furrowing the space between her eyebrows. "... so why do I feel so empty?" 

Her eyes were drawn towards a photo upon the desk. It was like many of the others she had, but something had forced her to keep this one. Maron smiled at her from the frame, dressed in her gymnastics outfit with Chiaki standing to one side of her, herself to the other. 

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for the framed picture, looking more closely at it. "Even then." She put her finger upon the glass above Chiaki's face, a slightly wistful smile appearing. "Even then, you were smiling for her, not me."   
'd known, true, that Jeanne was Maron. Over all the time that she'd been after Jeanne, she'd just been acting at being a detective to keep her friend from being caught. In a way, she knew, she'd miss that one constant in her life, but it was over, and she didn't know what to do with the pieces that remained: the class president's declaration was one such piece. She'd punched him. A slightly Puckish chortle escaped her as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, padding barefoot over to her small desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out a new picture: Maron's gift. 

She and Maron were head-to-head, soft smiles upon their faces. Miyako traced a finger over her own image. "I wonder if I'll ever look that happy," she mused. "Ah, I can't just sit here and go insane slowly!" She sat up, reaching for the picture frame. With careful fingers, she took the old picture out, smiling one final time at the happy smiles on their faces before she put it away in a drawer. The new picture fit perfectly in the old frame. If only life were as uncomplicated as replacing an old picture with a new one. 

Setting it down upon her desk, Miyako slipped outside, reaching for her coat -- the night would be cool, even if it was summertime -- and heading out the door. The elevator's door stood open, an invitation to freedom. She took it. 

The night was as cool as she'd expected, though not cool enough to cause her breath to condense. She set off towards a nearby park, picking out her favorite stars as she walked past the city lights and into the calming darkness of the park. The splash of a water upon marble drew her towards the fountain, lit by the night's moon. 

"It feels like it ought to be raining," she said, stepping lightly onto the rim of the fountain, balancing easily upon one foot. A leap brought her to the water's edge, and a twirl took her away from it once again. All the gymnastics she had learned guided her steps into a rhythm that was oddly familiar to her. 

"Maron's music!" As comprehension dawned, her steps faltered and her ankle buckled under the weight of the sudden stop. She bit her lip in pain as she collapsed gracelessly to the cool pavement. 

A shout from the side startled her, and she looked up. "Toudaiji-san!" 

Ah. Minazuki. 

*** 

He'd been watching her for a while, lurking at the edges of the open area and unwilling to intrude upon her private moment. In fact, he'd felt like quite the voyeur -- though he'd never admit it -- as he watched her dance. 

When she fell, however, he couldn't simply stay there. "Toudaiji-san!" he yelled, running out from his shadowed spot. 

He halted at her look. Purple eyes stared up at him through a fall of dark hair, and he thought uncomfortably that there was a question -- an indignant one, at that -- in them, hidden behind the pain of her ankle. 

"Toudaiji-san, let me see your ankle," he said, looking briefly away to regain his confidence. He kneeled down beside her, reaching for the injured foot. She didn't move, so he gently touched the area below the joint. Then she winced, and he sighed. "Toudaiji-san, you've sprained it, I think." 

"Ah." Even after having seen her lose all her fire before, Minazuki was no less startled to see tears in her eyes before she quickly wiped them away. "I thought so. Help me back to my apartment." She held out her hand, and he helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to help keep the weight off of her injured ankle. "It's not far." 

He nodded. "I know." He blushed a little, red tinting his cheeks. Her waist was slender and warm. Those aren't thoughts to be thinking at a time like this! Mentally chiding himself, he continued, "Are you ready to try and walk? I'll help you as much as I can." 

They took several halting steps, their paces uneven and jerky, before Miyako adjusted her stride to match his. She leaned quite a bit of her weight upon his shoulder, and she seemed not to notice his growing blush. "Toudaiji-san..." he said as they neared her apartment building. 

"Miyako." she said firmly, almost casually. "Call me Miyako." 

Minazuki nodded. "Miyako. We're almost back... but may I ask you something?" He continued on in a moment of boldness. "What made you come out tonight?" He let the question hang in the air and continued to help her along. She would answer if she wished. 

"Maron." He frowned at her, perplexed at the reply. She smiled wearily at him, then explained, slowing her steps. They weren't more than a hundred feet from the warm light of her building. "Most of what I did was for Maron. And tonight I realized that it was all for nothing. Chasing Jeanne, worrying about her life... all of it has just... shattered." She spread her hands in an eloquent gesture. "And I'm not sure what to do without that in my life." 

She looked so lost. Minazuki had never expected Toudaiji Miyako, of all people, to lose control of her life. He paused, arm still around her waist. Spotting a bench, he drew her over to it and sat down. There was something ambiguous about her statement. "Chasing Jeanne... that's not over yet. She still has to be caught. As does Sindbad," he said, prompting her for more information. 

She glanced up at him -- when had he become taller than she, he wondered -- with a small, wry smile upon her face. "Jeanne will not come again. If she did, I would not try to stop her... I found out what it is that she does." She halted, staring at him intently. He shifted uncomfortably, vaguely unnerved by her direct gaze. "She seals away demons. Monsters. Things that hide themselves in beautiful things, like the paintings. Demons that possess people and hurt those around them." 

Bits of information clicked into place with the unassailable taint of truth. "You were possessed. When you and Nagoya-kun were together. You made him be with you... or the demon did. And Jeanne sealed it away somehow," he said slowly. Each small bit of information -- Maron's disappearances, Miyako's all-too-evident determination to stop Jeanne, and all the myriad gems of data he'd collected and stored away in his mind -- turned over and fitted themselves into the pattern. "Jeanne is... Maron-san. And Nagoya-kun is Sindbad." 

Miyako looked away, upwards to a seventh-floor balcony. "You understood faster than I did. I never understood why Chiaki was always so worried about Maron, as though he was afraid she could die." Her voice was quiet, but Minazuki just blinked. The thought of Chiaki -- Sindbad! -- being scared of anything was something he'd never quite considered. "But she could have at any moment, if any of the demons had managed to trap her for long. She could have died, linchou! And I knew! And I couldn't do anything about it!" She had tears in her eyes again, but Minazuki couldn't tell the cause. He could only try to comfort her. 

"Yamato. That's my name," he said, surprising himself. The words had just popped out. "Miyako, you didn't know. I didn't know." And, if he was right, they were still missing a lot of information. Information that they both needed to know. "That ankle should have some ice on it. I heard Pakkelmao-sensei say that that was what was necessary. Come on, I'll help you to your apartment." He stood, offering her a hand. 

She took it with a nod, and, as her arm came around his neck for balance, he realized that nothing would be the same again. Not between any of them. "Thank you, Yamato." Another example of the changes that had been wrought in the span of a few moments. 

*** 

A breath of wind pushed a tendril of hair under his nose, tickling him towards wakefulness. He grimaced a little, eyes still firmly shut against opening. The weight of the warm blankets made his movements all the more sluggish and the awakening all the more difficult. 

It was the scent of raspberries and cream that gradually made him open his eyes. The wisp of Maron's hair now rested upon his cheek, stirring with each of his breaths. Moving carefully, he propped himself up on one elbow, simply content to watch her sleep soundly. 

She had one arm curled under the pillow, her hair spread out in disarray on top of of the white sheets. He reached out, touching a wayward strand of hair gently. Even as he did so, she shifted restlessly, reaching out for his hand in an unconscious wish for contact. Chiaki took her hand in his free one, and her eyes slowly opened, blinking at the light. "Good morning, Maron," he murmured, smiling. 

Another blink, and she returned the smile. "Good morning." She yawned, then snuggled closer to him. "I like waking up with you there. You're nice and warm," she said. 

He leaned down to kiss her, and she made a face. "Ugh. Morning breath..." She softened the comment with another bright smile which melted away his pout -- her smiles always did. He watched her stretch slightly, peering at her rumpled dress. "Ah." She glanced up at him through her lashes. "And I would have thought that you would have taken this off of me." 

Turning red, Chiaki coughed into his hand. "I didn't want to wake you. But..." He grinned. "I could take it off you now..." 

Of course, there would just have to be a knock at the door right at that moment. Maron's laughter had to be for the timing, not for the look he was sure was on his face. It just wouldn't be fair if she were laughing at him. 

He sighed as the person knocked again, then stood up, hand still clasped in Maron's. As she, too, stood, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Remember, I'm not letting you go more than ten feet away from me." She blushed and squeezed his hand, and he could hear the front door open. "Ah, the impatience of some people..." 

"You, Chiaki, shouldn't talk about patience," Maron said, leading him towards the main room. He grumbled slightly, casting the bed one last look, before following her. "You have none." 

Chiaki made a face, opening his mouth to protest, then snapping it shut as they realized who was standing in the middle of the living room. "Minazuki-kun!" Maron released his hand, beaming at the boy -- he always seemed like a boy to Chiaki, at least -- before hugging him tightly. Chiaki couldn't help but feel a little bit of jealousy at the hug. "How did you get in?" 

Miyako peered around the corner from the kitchen, face unusually solemn. "I let him in." He twitched a bit. Miyako rarely looked so serious, and Minazuki, once released from Maron's hug, was watching him carefully. Maron, on the other hand, was smiling at all three of them. 

"I didn't mean to intrude, Maron-san, but Miyako just opened the door and walked in." When Maron waved him to a seat, he shook his head. "I found some information last night, actually. And it left me with more questions than it answered. Jeanne-" He bowed to Maron, and Chiaki frowned. When had he become so mature, and how the hell had he found out? "-and Sindbad." 

Maron was white, all the color drained from her cheeks. Chiaki moved to her side and placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. A glance at Miyako showed that she wasn't surprised -- she must've known as well. "And what questions would those be?" he asked coolly. 

"Maron, don't look like that. I didn't tell him, and he's not going to tell anyone else." This was Miyako, and her glare at Minazuki promised a painful death if he did speak of what he knew. Her words also seemed to bring Maron out of her shock; Chiaki could feel her muscles relax under his hand. 

"No, not Jeanne, not anymore," Maron said, sitting down upon one of the couches. She smiled at Minazuki, amusement suddenly dancing in her eyes. "I suppose it's useless to tell you, then, that I don't need Sindbad captured? Chiaki, sit down, please." He sat down, and she rested her head against his shoulder. "Miyako just learned about it a couple days ago. How did you find out, Minazuki-kun?" 

Miyako wandered in from the kitchen, taking the seat opposite Chiaki, while Minazuki sat down next to her. "Some pieces clicked into place. I'm not the class president for nothing, and I did catch you once," he said. Sourly, Chiaki nodded while Maron smiled. "But what do you mean, not anymore? It has something to do with you going missing yesterday and the day before, I know. But I only know what I've told you -- I know that Nagoya-kun and you are the two we've been chasing. Miyako said that you sealed demons." He seemed doubtful, and, in all honesty, Chiaki couldn't blame him. Having an angel, however small, to explain things usually allayed people's doubts. But neither Access nor Fin were there. 

Maron patted his hand and smiled up at him, then turned back to Minazuki. "Let me start from the beginning..." 

The explanation took some time. 

*** 

"You spoke with God." 

"Yes." 

"You sealed away Satan." 

"Almost." 

"You are the reincarnation of Eve, born again and again, and now you're Kusakabe Maron." 

"Yes." 

"You gave up your power to help an angel be reborn." 

"Yes." 

"I understand." Minazuki was taking this well, Maron noted. She surreptiously reached for Chiaki's hand, entwining her fingers with his for comfort. He looked tense and almost unhappy. "Maron-san, I'm sorry." Minazuki's words drew her attention back to where he was sitting on the couch, his hands folded in his lap. "Sorry for your loss of Fin. And Access. They were special to you." 

She smiled at him, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Thank you, Minazuki-kun. Fin will be back, and where she is, Access will be," she said, squeezing Chiaki's hand. He glanced down at her, and she realized that he truly was unhappy. "Access will be back, too," she repeated softly, and some of that sadness eased away. 

Miyako was the one that Maron most worried about. She had said nothing throughout the entire explanation, and continued to be silent. Sparing a quick glance at her best friend, she saw a contemplative look in her eyes. It wasn't anger... more, Maron realized with a small amount of surprise, loss. 

"Maron." Miyako finally spoke, drawing all eyes in the room to her. "I knew it was you. I hadn't heard the story of why it had to be you, though." She paused, glancing down at her slippers, and Maron very nearly stood before she continued. 

Miyako's next words, therefore, took her completely by surprise: "You IDIOT!" 

Her eyebrow twitched. This was developing into one of those times again. And it didn't help that Chiaki was manfully trying to smother a snicker at Miyako's choice of words. She elbowed him, none too gently, and then turned her attention back to the fuming Miyako. 

"How you could be fooled into risking your life for some insane story is beyond me! I knew you were Jeanne! I knew that you were doing something important, so I made sure that you wouldn't be caught. But I never expected that you would be responsible for fighting the Devil himself! I should've stopped you before! I should've done something sooner!" She whirled on Chiaki, purple eyes narrowing to near slits. Maron could feel him choke off his laughter abruptly. "And you! You knew, and didn't try to stop her?" 

Maron stood up abruptly, almost hauling Chiaki up behind her. "He did. He couldn't. He wanted to fight instead of me, but... Miyako, don't you see why it had to be me?" As hard as it was to grasp, she knew that she was right. "I had the last power of God. I had to fight to keep it, or I would have lost it entirely. And that wasn't the only reason I fought: Fin, Access, Riru-sama... I didn't want them to disappear." She was flushed, she knew, and angry. "Fin died for me, Miyako. And you're saying that she died because of what I thought was right, and that was the only reason? I had to face myself in that ring, and I saw what I could have been if she hadn't been there and loved me in spite of her orders from the Devil!" Tears blurred her vision as she tried to continue, but found her voice gone. Another try. "I wish I could believe that there had been another way. Some way that Fin could have lived. But I know that there wasn't, now. And all I have left to hope for is that I will see Fin and Access again." She looked up, and was met by another unexpected sight. 

Miyako was crying and smiling at the same time, one hand lifted to catch the tears. "Maron... I'm your oldest friend. I've been with you ever since the beginning... I... I knew that there was something that you were still blaming yourself for." She smiled, and another tear crept down her face. Maron stood, paralyzed, as she continued. "And you aren't. Just now, you realized... it wasn't your fault." 

A dawning realization grew in Maron. She felt Chiaki stand up, felt him reach gently for her, but she shook her head and smiled through her tears at him. She had been blaming herself for Fin's death. And now... now, all that remained of that pain was the wistful hope of seeing her again. She ran over to Miyako, hugging her tightly and whispering, for her ears alone, "Thank you." 

"I forgive you." And those were the sweetest words Maron had ever heard. 

*** 

With dawning comprehension, he looked again at the girls, his eyes upon Miyako in particular. "Nagoya-kun," he said, voice pitched low enough that only the man could hear it, "You truly do love Maron-san." 

A brief flash of bravado quickly died away, and Chiaki nodded. "I couldn't help it. I thought I was just playing at the beginning, just flirting to distract her from being Jeanne, but then I realized that I'd fallen in love with her without knowing it." He chuckled as though embarrassed, running a hand through his hair. "And when I heard that she'd fallen... that night that you caught me... it really made me frightened that I'd lose her." 

Minazuki nodded. He'd been right. In spite of his less-than-honorable intentions, Nagoya Chiaki was someone to trust. It was then that he noticed Maron and Miyako staring at Chiaki with unreadable expressions upon their faces that boded ill for him. Miyako was the first to stand. 

"You were just playing then?" she demanded, looming over Chiaki. Minazuki could almost see the twin fires in her eyes. "Playing! A girl-hunter! Maron, you were right!" 

Maron stood, and her expression was more easily readable than Miyako's -- amusement warred with the need to placate Miyako. "I was right, wasn't I, Chiaki? But you're not now, are you?" Though her smile was bright on the first words, the last two were ground out with steel behind them. Minazuki smothered a helpless laugh. 

"Not if he avoids being affected by demons in the future..." he offered. After all, Chiaki was a fellow man -- they had to stick together. Sort of. "And there aren't any demons around anymore, right?" Logic would prevail; it always did. 

He hadn't counted on their logic momentarily failing them. 

*** 

Yelps and wicked laughter abounded on the seventh floor as Koron returned to her daughter's building, causing her to blink in confusion. The door to Maron's apartment stood open, and, even as she watched, Chiaki and Minazuki bolted out the door, running as though for their lives. 

The reason soon became apparent as Miyako, then Maron, came thudding out of the apartment. Koron stared between the four teenagers for a moment, incredulous, then began to laugh helplessly. That brought all of them to a halt; they had to stare at the madwoman, of course. 

"Mother?" Maron asked, claws retracting as she walked over to the older woman. "Ah... what's so funny? Mother?" Koron continued to laugh as her daugher watched without understanding. 

Wiping tears from her eyes, she brought herself under control. "I-it's just... just that their-" she waved a hand towards Chiaki and Minazuki "-expressions were so funny. And when you c-came out..." She giggled again, producing another round of disbelieving stares. "They ran even faster... and looked even more terrified..." 

Maron's expression was stuck somewhere between consternation and blank lack of understanding. At least, Koron mused, it was better than the scowl she'd worn a few moments before. "Mother, I don't understand." 

"It's... oh, never mind." She dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand, smiling at all four of them. "Chiaki-kun, Minazuki-kun, Miyako, Maron-chan. I came to see you all." 

"All of us?" Chiaki was suspicious, she could tell. Not that she could blame him, after what she'd almost done. "Why all of us?" 

Koron smiled at him, and he blinked. "Because I wanted to ask about things. Isn't that what a mother does? Hmm..." She paused, tapping a finger against her chin. "Ice cream. I want to get ice cream." That earned her another suspicious glance from Miyako and Chiaki. Maron, however, nodded. Minazuki just seemed relieved to have escaped death at the hands of two angry teenage girls. 

"Ice cream. There's a cafe a little ways away," Maron suggested, already walking back towards her apartment to get her shoes. "It has some nice flavors this time of year. Chiaki, Miyako, Minazuki-kun, don't you feel like having ice cream?" 

So, with cajoling and sweet talk from both Koron and Maron, Miyako and Chiaki both got their shoes on. Koron was surprised as Chiaki went into Maron's apartment to fetch his things, but a glance from her daughter halted any questions. It wasn't really her place to ask, anyway. 

The weather was still sunny and warm, and Maron seemed content to walk next to her as they made their way to the cafe, which, as promised, had all the flavors they could want. Settling into seats at an outdoor table with ice cream in hand, Koron watched as each person contentedly ate the sweet treat, Chiaki even daring to steal a few bites of Maron's and provoking an outraged yelp each time. 

This was what she had missed, all those years. Being with young people, her daughter and her husband. "Maron, I can't tell you how sorry we are..." she began, but was interrupted by her daughter's determined expression. 

"It doesn't matter. You don't need to apologize anymore. Not to me. You're home now." Maron was quite firm, finishing with a sharp nod before going back to try to eat her ice cream. Unfortunately, it had all disappeared. "Mou! Chi-a-ki!" 

And so the battle began anew, leaving Koron slightly confused. It was becoming a normal state.   


Later, when she returned to their temporary home, she seized upon Kaiki as a resource. Discovering him in the library, she waited until he realized she was there. His smile was so similar to his son's that it gave her pause for a moment. "Can I help you with anything, Koron-san?" he asked. 

"I need to know who 'Jeanne' is." A flash of comprehension in his eyes startled her briefly, but it was quickly banished and she continued. "That painting you have. You said something about Jeanne. And I know it's something important to both of us, and Takumi. And Maron." 

He nodded, then reached for a thick binder. As he flipped it open, she saw that it was a scrapbook, a huge collection of newspaper articles, photos, public domain police reports and miscellaneous information. Kaiki turned it to the first page, and Koron gasped. A piece of fine parchment rested upon the page, protected by a laminated sheet. "This was one of Jeanne's arrival notices," Keiki said, looking closely at her. "She came to steal one of my paintings. I was obsessed with the artwork of it, and she took it away and replaced it with the one that you saw." 

"But it wasn't that simple, was it?" Her voice was trembling, much to her surprise. The painting. This card. There was an attraction, a mysterious feeling that she ought to know more about these, and that they had something to do with her daughter. 

Kaiki turned away, looking out at the wind-tossed trees in the garden. "No. From what I can tell, that painting wasn't really a painting. The painting that Jeanne D'Arc-" Another bolt of that half-knowing sensation rippled down Koron's spine at the name "-stole was something else." He looked back at her, blue eyes worried. "I collect beautiful things. I don't remember buying that painting, nor much of how Jeanne took it. But I do remember having to help people out of near-death states as a result of that painting and my actions while I had it." 

He turned the page, and Koron stared at the woman shown there. The picture was blurred, yet vivid enough that every detail of her expression -- sparkling purple eyes, the lips that curved upwards in a tiny smile and an overall feeling of lively action -- was captured within. "Jeanne..." she breathed. 

The next page held another photo that was less familiar, but still frightened her with its feel. A man, and as handsome as Jeanne had been beautiful. He seemed more arrogant than his female counterpart, but there was still the same clear-eyed determination in his expression. "That is Kaitou Sindbad." Kaiki's voice was devoid of emotion. "Apparently, they were rivals at the beginning, but Sindbad saved Jeanne's life many times." 

She stared at the pictures, then flipped the page. Newspaper clippings surrounded a dried rose whose petals were as black as night. "The 'theft' on my house; reports and whatever other information I could find." She glanced up at him, and nodded at the wry smile upon his face. "I was trying to figure out what happened, since I don't remember it." 

"May... may I borrow this, Kaiki-san?" Koron asked, closing the binder slowly. "I know we're imposing alread-" She stopped abruptly when he held up a hand. 

His smile had turned wistful. "I owe Maron-chan a debt; any help I can give you, her mother, is partial repayment of that debt," he said, then grinned impishly. "And I'll do almost anything for a beautiful woman." 

*** 

"What am I going to do, Chiaki?" Maron was frustrated, her voice rising to near-panic. Chiaki rested his chin in her hair, listening to her worry and fret. There was nothing he could do to help her until she calmed down, but she wouldn't calm down until he said or did something. 

"Maron, your parents know more than you -- or they -- think they do," he finally said, kissing her forehead gently. "Your father knows that there was a reason that he left, but that reason was false. He's looking for an answer. I think that your mother is the same way." 

She paused, draping herself across him in a way that was extremely distracting. He kissed her again, savoring the sensation of her lips against his. Thoroughly distracting, indeed. All thoughts of her parents fled from his mind as time also vanished. 

As they gradually broke apart, he smiled, his face mere inches from hers. She looked beautiful -- but then, she always did -- as the sunlight from the open window hit her hair, bringing to life the amber highlights. "I love you, Kusakabe Maron." 

She no longer looked away when he said that, no longer flinched when he touched her. Again, he told himself that he'd kill Noin in a very, very painful manner for what he'd almost done to her. But then, she smiled, her face lighting up with happiness as she leaned towards him and murmured against his lips, "I love you, Nagoya Chiaki." 

There was no way for him to resist kissing her again as the world spun around them and they paid it no mind. 

*** 

Waking up was a deliciously slow experience as all of Maron's muscles gradually began to respond to her again. She opened her eyes and was met with a beautiful sight; Chiaki, his face unguarded in sleep, was only inches from her. She studied his face, from the sharp chin to the arch of his eyebrows and the way his hair fell across his forehead. The relaxation of sleep gave him a younger look, a more innocent cast to his features that made her gently reach out and trace his cheek tenderly. He did not stir. 

The clock said that it was late afternoon, far past time for lunch. A twinge from her stomach seconded the thought, and slowly, ever so slowly, she eased out of Chiaki's loose hold and stood up, drawing the covers closer around her sleeping lover's body. 

She reached for her clothes, then shook her head and deposited the white dress in the laundry basket. Instead, she picked up Chiaki's shirt, pulling it on and fastening all the buttons up to her chin. It always seemed to amuse him when she did that, though she never understood why.. The shirt was his; it retained some of the warmth from his body and some of his scent. Maron smiled to herself, then wandered out the door and towards the kitchen. 

Rice was her first target, dug out from the small cupboard where she kept her dry goods, then came the spices -- saffron, a pinch of basil and a couple other items -- and gradually, she began to make gratin, measuring out the ingredients out of pure habit. 

Once she'd put it in the oven, a sound from behind her caused her to turn. "So that's where my shirt went," Chiaki said teasingly, "Why, you little thief." 

She laughed, nodding. "Best thief in the world," she said, "Even better than a certain pseudo-Arabian thief I know quite well. You don't mind, do you?" It would take a while, she knew, to become entirely accustomed to sharing everything with him. 

He shook his head, sitting down upon one of the two chairs in her kitchen. "You look wonderful in whatever you wear." He licked his lips, an impish sparkle in his eyes. "Even your skin." As she passed by, he hooked an arm around her waist and hauled her into his lap. "You always do up all the buttons..." he complained mockingly, turning a poke at the top button into a caress. "But I saw gratin going in that oven... so don't distract me too much, wench!" 

She yelped in protest, slapping his shoulder and standing up quickly, tugging at the sleeves of the shirt. His pout made her smile, but she padded over to the oven to check on the dish. "Another ten minutes or so," she announced, peering on tip-toe into the small oven. 

*** 

Takumi was startled when the door to their room banged open and Koron rushed in, carrying a binder close to her chest as though it were something inestimably precious. "Koron, wha-" 

"You have to see this, Takumi. Jeanne D'Arc. She's alive. And it has something to do with us and with Maron, I can just feel it." She deposited the binder carefully upon the table, opening it to the first page. Takumi stared at the notice, stunned. 

It was half an hour later that they were rushing out the door, the binder placed in Takumi's briefcase. There were questions to be answered, and the only ones who could do it, they knew, were Maron and her friends. 

The drive over was as tense as the drive to the campsite had been, with neither of them speaking save for directions. The binder was resting in Koron's lap, and she was gripping it with white knuckles as he took every shortcut he could find, pushing the small car to its limits. 

Finding the nearest parking space within distance of the apartment building, they parked and bolted simultaneously towards their daughter's home. Neither spoke until they were in the elevator, whereupon Koron's voice, quiet and tense, reached his ears. "I pray to God that it's not true..." 

The bell dinged, and as soon as the doors were partway open, Koron darted out, still clutching the information tightly. Takumi followed, his heavier steps an odd counterpoint to her light ones. Through the picture window at the end of the hall, he saw that the trees were whipping wildly in a strong wind, and then they'd reached Maron's door. 

He knocked, once, twice, three times, and light laughter could be heard from behind the door as the door slowly swung open. "Father! Mother!" Maron seemed genuinely startled to see them, though she quickly donned a smile and gestured to the two new pair of slippers sitting by the step. Takumi relaxed a trifle, his heart slowing from its frantic pace. Even if she was wearing a man's shirt, she was safe. It was most likely the easiest thing to wear as a night-dress. 

Maron had disappeared into the kitchen while they were taking off their shoes, and he could hear her talking to someone in low tones. Toudaiji Miyako, most likely. 

Koron was the first to make it to the kitchen, the binder under one arm as she paused. He nearly ran into her, startled at her sudden halt. Then he realized why she'd stopped. 

It wasn't Miyako sitting at their daughter's kitchen table. It was the boy, Nagoya Chiaki, bare-chested and tight-lipped at their sudden arrival. Anxiety for Maron was fanned into anger as pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. It wasn't her night-dress. It was his shirt. "Leave. Now." Takumi growled, pointing to the door. 

"No." The boy stood, bowing stiffly to Koron, but not moving from his position beside their daughter. Maron looked like a startled deer, frozen in place, but the boy just looked angry. Takumi took a deep breath, preparing to order him out once again, but the boy beat him speech. "I have every right to be here, when you do not." He was startled at the boy's icy tone. "You have left your daughter on her own for ten years, neglecting to keep in even the most trivial of contact. No letters, no communication at all. You tried to forget that you even had a daughter. You were too wrapped up in your own lives to realize that Maron needed you, and that you weren't there. You-" He pointed at Koron, who had dropped the binder upon the floor. "-announce that you are separating through a message on Maron's answering machine. You-" Takumi felt himself tense as the boy's finger swung to point at him. "-do one thing to acknowledge your daughter in over ten years. Nothing more. You two have no right to tell Maron a single thing, nor do you have the right to demand information from her. You. Don't. Even. Know. Who. She. Is." 

"Chiaki!" Maron had laid her hand upon his shoulder, her expression set in a cold mask. Takumi felt Koron shiver as their daughter turned upon them, her brown eyes showing no emotion. He himself felt cold at the sight. 

"You left me, but I forgave you for that. Perhaps it was more than you deserved." Her voice had also turned cold and steely, formality springing to her tone with a touch of an old accent. "I will not forgive you for judging my actions without knowing the full truth of what I do." 

She bent to pick up the binder, smoothing out the card that had fallen out of it with a practiced motion. She held it up to them, motions stiff and cold. The accent had grown stronger. "This is a warning to a demon that lived in a painting, taking in and encouraging all the negative emotions that humans are capable of." Her hand never wavered, nor did her gaze. With her other hand, she opened the binder to another page, grasping a similar piece of parchment and holding it out to Takumi. He looked at it, but did not move. It was of a rougher style than the first, a grouping of church bells and heavily drawn lines surrounding the text. "The owners of these cards still live; the demons do not. One-" She held up the smoother card. "-is that of Jeanne D'Arc. The other is that of Sindbad. They sealed the demon away." 

She dropped the cards, letting them flutter to the ground. Her expression softened the tiniest bit as the boy held out a wooden rosary with a jewel roughly mounted in the center. Koron muffled a sob as Maron pulled a pendant on a chain from around her neck, and Takumi could only hold her as she backed away. Maron's voice continued, emotion creeping slowly back into her words. "I am -- was -- Jeanne D'Arc." 

At her nod, the boy suddenly... changed. Takumi had no better word than that as they were faced by a man who had, according to all accounts, escaped police and whatever else officials had thrown around him in futile attempts to catch him. "Sindbad." His voice was hoarse as he stared at his daughter where she stood, still holding the pendant carefully. 

Koron broke out of his grasp, taking three slow steps towards Maron and Sindbad, her eyes wide. "You..." 

"She is Jeanne D'Arc, the maid of Orleans. She is also Eve, the first woman," Sindbad said, stepping between Koron and their daughter. His voice had deepened, become darker and harder-edged. "And she will always be above your reach." 

Takumi took a step forward, jaw set in anger. This was their daughter, not some legendary woman to be watched from afar. He seethed as Maron -- their daughter -- laid her hand upon the thief's shoulder and stepped in front of him, her face once again unreadable. 

"I am what he says I am. And he has always loved me," she said, staring directly at Takumi. For a moment, she was not Maron, dressed in a simple white shirt. She was a tall stranger gowned in riches of experience and far too much knowledge. "And yet, I am Kusakabe Maron, your daughter." The icy mask melted away, leaving only the anger and sorrow that she must have carried for as long as they had been away. Takumi felt all the anger drain away, leaving only a void empty of feeling. Koron had collapsed to her knees, crying, but he couldn't move to help her. He could only stare as Maron turned away from him, into the thief's arms. Though that thief wasn't Sindbad any longer. It was Nagoya Chiaki. 

"I haven't found happiness yet, Chiaki." The whisper reached his ears and broke him out of his trance. "I thought I had, but I haven't." Takumi took a few steps past Koron, reaching out towards his daughter. His hand was slapped away by Chiaki, an angry look upon his face as he held Maron's shaking form close. 

"You don't deserve to touch her," the man -- Takumi couldn' t think of him as a boy any longer -- hissed, blue eyes fastened firmly upon him. "Go. Now." And, to his pain, he did. 

Koron stayed, face in her hands. 

*** 

Maron's words had made every ounce of his reason disappear. He was furious, angry with what had happened to her in the past and what her parents were doing to her now, and to lash out at her father was the only thing he could do as he held her tightly. 

As the man left, Chiaki turned all his attention on Maron, gently picking her up and cradling her as she cried. She'd had to cry too much in her life already. It wasn't fair for God -- or anyone -- to make her cry any longer. "Shh, Maron," he whispered, carrying her past her mother and out into the main living area. "I'm still here." 

He sat down upon one of the couches, still cradling her against his chest. Her tears had stopped, but she still clung to him. "Oh, Chiaki, it wasn't supposed to happen like this," she whispered wearily. "I wasn't-" He cut her off, placing a finger upon her lips. 

"This is not your fault. They left you, and then they come back and think that they can fit so easily back into your life, but it's not that simple," he said, holding her gaze with his. "They left. You didn't make them leave." 

She nodded, breaking off the stare shyly as she looked down at the pendant dangling from her neck. Her arms tightened around him suddenly. "Promise me that you won't leave, too?" 

"I'm not going to leave. Ever." He hugged her closely, and she relaxed, a warm weight against his chest. A sound from the entranceway drew his attention, and he gritted his teeth. Maron's mother stood with one hand upon the kitchen doorway, watching him sadly with the traces of tears still upon her cheeks. 

Koron, apparently noticing his flat stare, looked down at her slippers, then back up. She looked, at that moment, very much like an older Maron, with the same sadness that lurked in her eyes. "May I sit down?" she asked softly, taking a couple slow steps into the room. Chiaki didn't answer, unwilling to even speak to her, but Maron looked up. 

"Mother, you understand, don't you?" In her voice was a plea for what she'd lost so long ago: a mother's love. She slipped out of Chiaki's grasp and sat beside him, watching her mother. All he could do was catch her hand in his and stay with her. 

The other woman shook her head slowly, kneeling down in front of Maron. "No, I don't understand, Maron," she said, a confused, pained look in her eyes. "You are my daughter, but you aren't. You're a woman who has grown up without a mother, and who has done and seen things that I never have." She spread her hands before her, examining them sadly. "And I can't begin to understand." 

Chiaki watched as Koron's expression grew wistful. Maron's hand was still resting in his, but she neither acknowledged it nor refused the contact; she merely continued to watch her mother. The confusion in Koron's face grew to dominate the pain, and only then did Maron speak. "The only person who truly could understand is... not here," she said, "She died to protect me from the Devil's final strike." Her voice was distant, almost emotionless. 

"Kaitou Jeanne would not have been real if Fin Fish had not met me. And if she had not loved me, I would not have been able to fight against the darkness. Mother, do you understand that? Without the help of a fallen angel, I would have died a very long time ago. And yet, if I had not met her, so much of the pain that everyone suffered would not have been real." She paused, turning to him for a moment. "It is a double-edged sword. She loved me in spite of the fact that she was not supposed to do so. And because of that love, we both were hurt." 

"Mother, this is what it is like to be me. Your return made me happy. But the reason you returned -- to find out who I am -- has brought everyone pain. I was seeking happiness, and I thought I had found it, and then I discover that it is nothing but the ashes of such." Her eyes were blank and her voice brittle; she had never seemed more fragile to Chiaki than at that moment. "Tell me. Why did you come today, if you already knew?" 

Koron stared upwards, her eyes flickering from Maron's face to their intertwined hands, to Chiaki's face. His expression, he was sure, was angry. She'd caused more pain to Maron. "Because... I didn't know," she said slowly, shaking her head. "Something happened the day that you disappeared. I realized that I didn't know what I was doing away from you. And then, when I came back, your father had seen the same thing. And then I heard the first whisperings about Jeanne, and any time she was mentioned, I knew that there was something... something important about it." Her voice had dropped to a whisper, and Chiaki frowned. If what she was saying was true... 

"You were manipulated," Maron said, looking up as life returned to her eyes. "Fin told me that everything -- you and Father leaving, never writing, never telling me anything -- was made to break my heart. For that last power of God, so that the Devil could steal it from me when I no longer wanted it sealed away within me." 

"And now, it seems like he is still working against us." 

********** 

Yatta! Things are finally falling into place. 

1. Meimi-chan, it's not going to be as easy and angst-free as it looks. We still have Takumi to deal with, as well as Kaiki. 

2. The last version wasn't Miyako-ish enough... so I think I managed to fix that in this version. Though I have the feeling that Chiaki would have willingly throttled her for what she almost did to Maron... O.o;;; 

Next up: Minazuki and Miyako eavesdrop. '...' ensues. Takumi returns, for better or worse. Kaiki makes his reappearance and gets throttled (as usual), and Noin's the one to do it. Sound like fun? 


	2. ... Naritai

Arcadia Chapter 2 Eavesdropping on a conversation was much less work and skulking about than   
Minazuki had expected: Miyako had apparently had Maron's living room   
wiretapped for the past several months. So, there they were, sitting in   
Miyako's room and listening to the tinny conversation from a small speaker   
set upon the desk. 

It was not, needless to say, Minazuki's original conception of the first   
time he would have been in Miyako's room. 

He glanced over at her briefly as Maron explained her relationship with   
Fin. Her face was drawn and tense, as it had been since the first angry   
words had come through the speaker, clearly audible from the kitchen's bug. 

"Miyako?" he asked, tapping her shoulder gently. He still relished being   
able to call her by her first name. 

"Ah? Yamato, what is it?" Her attention had been entirely focused upon the   
explanation. She shifted restlessly in her seat, stealing a glance towards   
the speaker. He stood and turned it off, frowning at her. She opened her   
mouth to protest, then subsided. "Chiaki was right, though," she said   
defensively after a tense moment of silence. 

"Maybe he was. But it isn't our business to know every single detail of   
their conversation." As important as that conversation may have been, it   
was a private conversation nonetheless. "Miyako, Maron is the most   
important person in the world to you." At her nod, he sighed inwardly. It   
was tempting to try and break that determination through sheer force of   
logic, but logic, he'd found, was harsh and did not care for broken hearts. 

He let the subject drop. All he did was sit down next to her upon the bed,   
running a hand through his hair. He needed a haircut. 

As soon as he sat down, she heaved a wistful sigh and glared halfheartedly   
at him, then at the speaker. "Maron was the only one who would be my friend   
when we were little, and when we were growing up," she said, tentatively   
leaning against him. He felt his cheeks turn slightly red. She'd punched   
him when he'd told her how he felt; this voluntary contact was unexpected.   
"We just... stayed friends, going into gymnastics together, going through   
the high school exams with eachother. I've always been one of the most   
important people in her life, and I don't know if I am now." 

It had to be about Maron, of course. She raised a point, however, that had   
troubled Minazuki for some time. Chiaki had been everything he'd wanted to   
be: suave, handsome, and perfectly capable of winning any girl's heart --   
even the unreachable Kusakabe Maron. And so, he'd wanted to be like Chiaki   
for the longest time. He'd gotten contacts, changed his attitude... and   
discovered that he wasn't Chiaki. All in the span of a couple months, he'd   
learned that he was himself, and not definable by who he looked like or was   
friends with. "Miyako," he said gently, "You aren't only Maron's friend.   
You're Toudaiji Miyako, one of the smartest girls in our class, and, if you   
know it or not, one of the strongest people I know." He looked down at his   
hands, made suddenly shy by his words. "And one of the most beautiful." 

He could feel her tense beside him, pinning him with a glare. "Is that what   
all this is about? You told me you liked me, and you're using the situation   
to get just that little bit further along with me?" He flinched away from   
her hurt, sharp tone. "I thought better of you, linchou. Get out. Now.   
Before I show you just how 'strong' I am." The whiplash of sarcasm on that   
one word sent him out the door. 

He never even noticed Miyako's sister watching him as he left, her   
expression thoughtful. The door slammed, and, had he been able to see, he   
would have been startled at how Miyako's sister casually entered her   
sister's room and began to ask questions. 

* 

Damn, damn and double-damn. Minazuki stared blankly at the mirror in the   
elevator, only barely noticing the rhythmic ping of the indicator as it   
counted down the floors. He scrubbed at a wayward tear with the edge of his   
coatsleeve, turning just in time to see the doors open and Kusakabe Takumi   
frown at him. 

The man looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. And, considering the   
conversation he'd had, Minazuki couldn't blame him. "Kusakabe-san," he said   
politely, trying to slip past the older man and out into the night. Takumi   
moved to block him, still frowning. 

"You're Maron's class president, correct?" Even his voice was rough and   
tired. "I need to speak with you. I need information." 

Minazuki shook his head doggedly, making another futile attempt to get to   
the door. "Kusakabe-san, I can't give you any information. I don't know   
anything." He knew he was a bad liar, but he wasn't about to give details   
about Maron to someone who had walked out on her not once, but twice. "Let   
me pass." 

Takumi reached out, hand closing on his shoulder. "No. You have   
information. And it's important to me to know every single bit of   
information about Maron." Minazuki struggled, trying to escape the iron   
grip, but it was as though the man were stronger than he ought to have   
been. "Stop it, boy." 

He wrenched his shoulder out of Takumi's grip and stared angrily at him. "I   
am sorry, Kusakabe-san, but you don't deserve to know the first thing about   
Maron. She can forgive almost anything, but I don't know how she could   
forgive you for what you said and did! You said you couldn't tell her who   
to love. And now you're saying that this isn't true? How dare you." 

And, with that final word, he whirled on his heel and stalked out of the   
door, hands clenched at his sides. 

*** 

Once again, Kaiki was standing in front of the painting, looking up with a   
smile. The moment broke as a laughing Yashiro darted down the hall,   
carrying a single light bag. He turned, and, as expected, a heavily-loaded   
Kagura followed, his face expressionless save for a tiny hint of laughter   
in his eyes. "Shopping again?" Kaiki asked, gesturing at the packages,   
eyebrows lifted. 

Yashiro swung about, beaming at him. "Oh yes, we went shopping. And we got   
some really nice clothes -- dresses and hats and all sorts of things. And I   
even got Kagura to get something for himself, too!" She was bright and   
cheerful and young, and her grin was infectuous. Kaiki's smile grew. 

"I'm glad that you had fun, Yashiro-chan. Did you see either of our guests   
while you were out?" The question was not mere curiosity; he attempted to   
smooth away the worry that tinged his voice and expression, but it refused   
to leave. Koron and Takumi had far too much to learn in too short a time,   
and too much -- Maron's happiness -- depended upon their learning the   
truth. Though, admittedly, what that truth was, Kaiki wasn't entirely sure. 

Yashiro paused, absently taking a couple packages from Kagura as she   
thought. "I did. I saw Kusakabe-san's father with one of her teachers at a   
cafe. They were talking, so I didn't say anything." She smiled at him,   
green eyes dancing merrily. "You worry too much." 

He returned the smile easily, feeling his muscles relax. Yashiro had been a   
favorite child of his, as she'd grown up. Her parents had been friends of   
his first wife, Mizuki, and when they'd died, he'd lost another link to   
her. She had become his ward soon after, and she and Chiaki had grown up   
together. "I do, and you're right. I shouldn't, should I?" 

Kagura cleared his throat, looking faintly pained -- but then, Kaiki mused,   
he always did look as though he were in a bit of pain -- and Yashiro turned   
pink. "Well, we should go. Don't forget to come to dinner!" The last was   
shouted over her shoulder as she once again started down the hallway,   
Kagura following behind her. Kaiki shook his head in amusement, then walked   
off towards his office. He had a shift at the hospital tonight. Perhaps he   
would learn more about what had happened to Takazuchiya Zen. 

*** 

"How could he still be working against you?" Koron asked, eyes widening in   
horror. Her hands were clenched in the fabric of her loose skirt, and she   
could feel the nails digging into her skin. It was impossible. It had to be   
impossible. 

Chiaki leaned forward, the suspicion and anger that had been present upon   
his face now gone. His voice was rough as he began to speak. "How does one   
kill an aspect of God?" he asked, entirely solemn. His hand, she saw, was   
still entwined in Maron's, for mutual comfort. 

"Mother, I didn't kill the Devil. I... I don't know exactly what I did." A   
futile wave of her daughter's hand indicated Maron's lack of complete   
understanding. "I couldn't get rid of God's unhappiness fully..." Her voice   
dropped in sorrow. Koron could only watch helplessly as what should have   
been her right -- to comfort her only child -- fall to a man who was barely   
known to her. 

It hurt to know that that child had grown away from her. 

Maron had been a happy child, a bright spot in their life. Her smiles had   
brought laughter to quiet Takumi, delight to herself. And they'd left, and   
those smiles had been lost. There was nothing to be done, she knew, but to   
try to become a part of her daughter's life once again. She looked down at   
her hands, their shape blurring from gathering tears. "Maron, it never was   
your fault," she said shakily, looking up once again. "Nothing could be." 

Koron was startled to see a smile, wan though it was, appear upon her   
daughter's face. "You are the second person to have told me that today,"   
Maron said, releasing her hold upon Chiaki and standing up. "Miyako said   
the same thing." She tugged self-consciously at the shirt she was wearing,   
smiling down at her mother. "And I know that it's true. But things still   
hurt. Like..." The smile wavered, then disappeared. "Father doesn't   
understand. Something is making him not understand." 

Chiaki stood up, offering Maron a bright smile. All the recklessness that   
he'd shown earlier had returned, along with a slight hint of mischief.   
Koron had to choke down a sudden hysterical giggle; he was not only   
bare-chested, but barefoot. Certainly not prepared to go out and fight   
battles against the Devil and an angry, disillusioned father. His hand shot   
up in the air, and, as Maron watched him quizzically, he announced, "Kaitou   
Sindbad will force the evil spirit out of the fair lady's father! But-" He   
paused, holding his index finger upright. "-first, let me just get   
dressed." 

That was when Maron hit him with a pillow, her laughter a twin to Koron's.   
Through her mirth, Koron watched the pair fight gently. Indeed, her child   
had grown up, and was a child no longer. There was an aspect of fated love   
in their lives, and that love was the sort to never die. 

*** 

Takumi watched Minazuki stalk out the doors, feeling the most desolate he   
had in years. Rubbing at his eyes in exhaustion, he saw his reflection in   
the night-mirrored glass; his hair was dishevelled, his eyes shadowed, with   
grim lines drawing his lips downwards. 

A couple steps brought him to the glassed-in lobby, next to the doors. The   
coolness of the glass against his forehead was soothing, and the normal   
world outside was so tempting. 

"But it's not a normal world," he said aloud, stepping away from the glass   
and looking longingly at the elevator. It would be so easy to just give in   
and say that he was sorry, but pride -- and a certain lingering anger and   
shame -- wouldn't allow him to take the easy way out. Self-flagellation, he   
mused, was really quite tempting. 

The soft ping of the elevator behind him drew his thoughts back to the   
world. As Miyako stepped out, the same irrational urge to grab her and   
demand information siezed Takumi, forcing his hands into fists. 

Miyako turned to face him, and the urge disappeared. Traces of tears still   
lingered on her cheeks, and her purple eyes were strained and red. He   
watched as her expression changed from open pain to a closed mask; she'd   
seen him standing there, watching her. She lifted her chin and strode past   
him, heading for the doors. 

Perplexed at the sudden change, Takumi almost missed the sudden mis-step as   
Miyako's ankle twisted under her, drawing a pained grimace through her   
frozen expression. The next step didn't come; he had quickly offered her   
his arm, unsure as to exactly why. It was, after all, clear that she didn't   
want to speak to him. Hell, he wasn't sure if he wanted to speak to   
himself. 

"Toudaiji-san?" he asked, looking down at her wary face. "Are you all   
right?" The courtesy was comfortable, keeping his mind away from Maron and   
Koron and the irrational hurt and anger that thoughts of them would bring   
to the surface. "What happened?" 

Myriad flickers of emotion crossed her face as Takumi just stood there,   
watching. Hurt, pain, sadness, wistful longing -- they almost mirrored his   
feelings, in a way. "Nothing. I'm fine, Kusakabe-san. Please just let me   
go." She had turned her head away from him, and her voice was wavering as   
though tears were soon to follow. 

A split-second decision forced all thought of painful emotion away from   
him. Takumi offered Miyako a smile, strained though it was. "Come, come,   
Toudaiji-san, let's go find that young man that just stormed out of here. I   
have to apologize to him." 

"Ya-Linchou?" Miyako had turned back to him, leaning a bit more weight upon   
his arm. "I don't... I don't want to see him, really, Kusakabe-san." She   
wiped at her eyes surreptiously with a corner of her sleeve, and Takumi's   
smile faltered slightly. She was definitely hurting as much as he was, and   
the anger that he'd felt earlier had been completely destroyed. 

*** 

Somewhere, a solid mass of darkness cursed angrily, shrinking into itself.   
What little power it still had had gone into manipulating the human's pain   
and hurt, and it had just slipped out of his grasp. The plan was ruined. 

In the same place, a small ball of light watched the darkness sadly. She   
could do nothing for any of those she loved. 

*** 

Minazuki stared up at the cloudy night, shivering slightly in the chill.   
The undersides of the clouds looked orange from the glow of the city   
lights, unlike the star-filled blackness it had been the night before. He   
was a glutton for self-punishment, sitting by the cold water of a fountain   
in the middle of the night, but the soft splash of water on marble was   
soothing, though it didn't help the angry whirlwind of thoughts that   
plagued him. 

He looked up at a carving of an angel, her arms wrapped around a jar of   
water that endlessly spilled into the bowl below. "Ah, why am I here, of   
all places?" he asked rhetorically. The sound of his own voice blended into   
the fountain's music, coaxing him to continue. "Toudaiji-san doesn't   
understand that I really do..." His voice dropped to a mere whisper, which   
was somehow louder than his earlier speech had been. "... love her." 

The memory of her light steps as she danced along the edge of this very   
fountain brought a flush to his cheeks, and he looked down at his hands.   
"Is this what Nagoya-kun meant by always wanting to be with Maron-san and   
to be touching her? That he loves her?" 

He looked up at the angel again, envying the ever-serene expression upon   
her face. Minazuki Yamato, class president and perfect student, head of his   
class and all-around geek, could never be so perfectly happy. No human   
could do anything but search for happiness -- for real happiness, he mused,   
could never be found save in brief moments. 

"So cynical for one so young." It was a new voice, that. A man, half-hidden   
in the shadows on the other side of the fountain, was watching him. He   
stepped out into the low light, a slight smile playing about his lips. "I   
have nothing to gain from helping you, but I might, all the same." 

He'd said it all aloud, apparently. Minazuki's eyes narrowed slightly, his   
jaw tightening. Shikaidou Hijiri was not one to be trusted, to be sure.   
There had been more to Maron's tale than she'd said, he knew. And it   
involved this man. "Why would you, of all people, want to help me?"   
Shikaidou -- Noin, for that was who he was, really -- stepped forward, that   
half-smile still upon his face. "Because you now know about Jeanne, I take   
it. And because..." A wry smile replaced the mocking one. "The human left   
in me has raised its ugly head. Jeanne would be happy if her friends are   
happy." 

That was an unexpected turn. Minazuki stared up at the taller man for a   
moment, frowning. "And if I do know, Shikaidou-sensei? Why would you want   
to see Maron-san happy?" He shifted away from Noin, glancing up at the   
water falling from the angel's jar. Every bit of logic rebelled against   
trusting Noin, and so, trust him he wouldn't. 

Noin perched upon the edge of the fountain, amusement trickling into his   
voice. "Because, in spite of the fact that she loves a brat that will never   
understand her true worth, I still love her. And I am no longer ruled by   
someone with plans to hurt her." The last sentence was in a harsher tone,   
and Minazuki felt a small piece of logic crumble to emotion. 

"Tell me, Minazuki-kun, would you ever want to see Toudaiji-san unhappy for   
any reason?" Another piece of logic fell as he considered the question. 

He wanted more than anything to have Miyako with him, to be cherished and   
loved by her and for him to love in return. But... it hurt him to see her   
in pain. Any tear tore at him, and any unhappiness in her eyes drove him to   
distraction. "No," he said flatly. 

Noin nodded, a gesture more felt than truly seen in the darkness. The   
clouds were dispersing, and with them, the reflected light of the city.   
"Then you understand why I want to see Jeanne happy. And-" He smiled, a   
real smile that made him seem more human, in spite of what Minazuki knew to 

be true. "-why I want to help you." 

"Your situation is not all that different from mine, in fact," Noin said,   
glancing briefly up at the stars. Did he see the same things that every   
other human did? The scientist in Minazuki was speaking up, and he firmly   
quashed it as the other man continued softly. "The one you love so dearly   
is in love with someone else, and thinks there is no space in her heart to   
love another." 

Confusion spread across Minazuki's face, and Noin apparently noticed, for   
he sighed and shook his head. "Think about it." 

He bolted upright, a flush spreading across his face as he stuttered.   
"Miyako-san isn't like that! Maron-san is the most important person to her,   
but she doesn't love her like that!" he said, stammering over the words in   
his haste to deny what was gradually becoming more clear. He sat down as   
quickly as he'd gotten up, head in his hands. "She doesn't. But she doesn't   
know that the love she has for Maron-san is not the only real love she can   
have." 

Oh, it was painfully obvious now. And even more painful was the fact that   
he had attempted to make it clear to Miyako and had been rebuffed by the   
hurt he'd caused. 

"You see, then," Noin said, his voice expressionless. Minazuki was grateful   
for that; sympathy at that moment would have made the pain worse. "The   
difference in our situations, however, is that Toudaiji-san has begun to   
realize that Jeanne has found the one she wishes to be with. Also,   
Toudaiji-san knows that she can like another person. She believes she can't   
truly love them, and that, Minazuki-kun, is what you must change." 

*** 

Noin watched the boy struggle with the idea, then gradually accept it. His   
heart, long corrupted by the demon though it was, hurt. It was a strange   
sensation, after so long of running on pure hope and the power of the   
Devil. 

Perhaps it was the fall of the Devil that made his heart feel human once   
again. 

"Thank you, Noin." The soft words drew him out of his reverie, focusing   
upon the boy once again. It was startling to hear his real name come from   
someone truly not connected to Jeanne and his past, and it, surprisingly   
enough, made his human side warm further to the young man. "And I'm sorry   
for what had to happen to you." 

Long-held cynicism and anger against the human race cracked at the words,   
spoken by a mere youth. An apology from someone who had no reason to   
apologize, save that he was a part of a world that had caused such pain,   
held a certain power. "Thank you," he said, surprised at the lack of   
hoarseness in his voice. "Now, go and find Toudaiji-san." 

As the boy left, Noin faded back into the shadows, slipping into his demon   
form to watch him go. There was much to think about -- the resolve and   
anger that had driven him for so long had little meaning now. 

*** 

"Kusakabe-san," Miyako said, slipping her arm out of his when they were a   
scant hundred metres from the small cafe Maron had taken them to earlier in   
the day. She needed an answer, and it was time to ask. "Why do you hate   
Chiaki?" She stood, a silhouette against the glow from the buildings,   
awaiting his response. 

He had stopped, a frown creasing his forehead as he looked over his   
shoulder at her. He seemed puzzled. "He..." Takumi paused, hand creeping up   
to rub at his temples. "Maron is my daughter. He's taken that away from   
me." 

Miyako started to protest -- no-one could take away the biological ties   
between father and daughter -- but he held up a hand, the words coming in   
more of a rush. "He -- and you -- have been there when I should have. Maron   
doesn't need me anymore. She doesn't need Koron, and she doesn't need us to   
be here to help her and to love her. I hate him because of that. She was my   
daughter, the one child who could make me smile even when I felt that I'd   
never be good enough for anything. And that boy has her smiles now, and I   
don't." 

She stood, stunned, as he paced angrily, his voice tightly controlled. A   
small gust of wind tugged at her hair, then ruffled his coat, and he   
stopped his furious action, looking up through the city lights to the stars   
above. "God, it's not fair, because we don't even know why we left. And   
that, Toudaiji-san, hurts the most." 

His voice had dropped to a mere whisper as the wind continued to swirl   
around them, light gusts occasionally picking up a stray leaf and carrying   
it away. Compassion flooded Miyako, but she remained silent for a moment.   
Sometimes, a friend had to be like a surgeon, inflicting a little pain to   
spare a person from the greater. "Tell me, Kusakabe-san-" She had put as   
much ice into her voice as she dared, stepping towards him in even,   
measured paces. "-is it the fact that Maron has been risking her life for   
God and Chiaki what scares you, and makes you hate? And that Chiaki was the   
one to save her, not you, her father?" 

The wind gusted suddenly, her hair flickering across her eyes as she lifted   
a hand to tap Takumi's chest. She allowed the compassion and empathy to   
show in her expression as she continued. "Maron told me that her parents   
had been manipulated by the Devil to forget their daughter, to leave and   
cause as much pain as they could. Kusakabe-san, you were wrong to hurt   
Maron that way, and to accuse her." 

Through the tirade, her mind returned to Minazuki, his pain at her   
rejection clearly printed upon his face. Miyako's final words dropped off   
into a whisper, the truth therein sweeping her doubt away like a leaf upon   
the breeze. "And I was wrong, too." She could barely hear her own words   
over the sudden rush of wind and the pounding of her heart. 

Takumi was watching her, his face pale and his eyes widened with pain.   
"Manipulated? All those years, away from both of them, and now I learn that   
I was manipulated?" His face twisted, and Miyako shed her own despair to   
try to help him out of his. 

"Everyone around Maron was, Kusakabe-san. Chiaki-" He winced, and she took   
his hand, squeezing it tightly. "-was manipulated by me, while I was   
possessed. I hurt Maron when I was possessed. Someone who had been very   
close to Maron, who had helped her become who she was, betrayed her. Had   
always been betraying her. No-one around Maron was left untouched by it.   
And you were a part of it, no more, no less." 

*** 

No more, no less. The words hit a chord deep within Takumi, a sudden   
lifting of his soul that brought with it the ease of forgiveness. Self-pity   
and punishment were left behind. "Thank you, Toudaiji-san." 

He had still hurt Maron. He had doubted her, and tried to build a cage   
around her, when she was the very thing that brought freedom, in truth.   
"Toudaiji-san," he said, musing slightly, "Have you heard the tale that the   
wind is God's sigh, that it brings hope to the world?" 

She smiled through the pain that he could still see lurking in the back of   
her eyes, and nodded. "Maron is that wind, isn't she?" It was not a   
question, rather, a statement of fact. Miyako released his hand and stepped   
away, spreading out her arms in the now-steady breeze. "I always thought   
she was far too graceful for her own good." There was wry amusement in that   
comment. "Gymnastics, you know. She loves gymnastics." 

He smiled. Such details were precious in a way; he knew very little about   
who his daughter was, he realized. Clearing his throat, he offered his arm   
to Miyako. "Now. Shall we go find Maron? Or should we look for that young   
man you seem so fond of?" Something akin to a grin replaced his smile at   
the sudden pink tinge in the girl's cheeks. 

She seemed to notice his amusement, for she put her hands on her hips and   
stared at him. "You-" she said, tapping his chest with one firm finger,   
"-should find Maron and Chiaki and apologize. I can find linchou on my own. 

I am a detective, and a very good one." 

"Thank you, Toudaiji-san. For everything." They parted ways under the   
yellow glow of a streetlamp, with the wind following their steps. 

*** 

A soundless howl of anger and pain resounded over the misty darkness that   
hid the two of them. The ball of pure darkness contracted upon itself, a   
wounded, powerless entity that could no longer even touch the world. The   
light expanded a small amount, moving slowly towards the darkness. She --   
for the light was female -- held the memories of a life that both loved and   
hated this darkness, and she would not abandon him until her time came to   
melt forever into oblivion. 

Fin Fish loved life far too much to ever give up entirely to death. 

*** 

Suffice it to say, Kaiki was confused. The data from the small transmitter   
Zen had been forced to wear had shown rapid heartbeats, steady and smooth,   
and then had simply stopped, though he had continued to breathe. And then,   
his heart had started again, as though whatever had stopped it had   
disappeared from the face of the earth. And this was especially suspicious   
when one took into account the fact that the painting above Zen's bed had   
disappeared. 

The heartbeat had been abnormal, with an odd murmur. Kaiki sighed heavily,   
resting his chin upon his hands as he studied the charts. 

He'd known that Maron had taken Zen out, but had not said a word. He knew   
that there was something his son's love had been hiding, and it was related   
to this. "So why would his heart stop, then restart with no other signs of   
a heart attack?" he said aloud, leaning back in his chair. There was a   
correlation somewhere, and he would find it. 

The painting! Bolting upright, Kaiki reached into his file drawer,   
withdrawing a set of handwritten notes. The safest place to keep these had   
been his work, and therefore he'd been unable to give them to Koron when   
she'd asked for information. Times, dates, observations -- these were his   
personal notes on Kaitou Sindbad. 

Reaching the page he wanted, he scanned through the notes, then nodded   
sharply. Kaitou Sindbad's work did not replace the painting; it left it as   
a blank canvas. It was a shaky foundation to build upon, but it was better   
than what he'd had. 

He turned the page to a blank sheet of paper, reaching for a pen. If Zen   
had been possessed by a demon, and that demon had been too strong for the   
boy's body -- it could account for the heart failure. Then, Kaitou Sindbad   
had sealed the demon away, allowing Zen's heart to beat again for the small   
amount of time that the strain of his exertions had left him before he   
died. 

He set the notebook down, flipping to a random page and running a hand   
through his hair out of sheer exhaustion. A sheet of paper had fallen to   
the floor from his earlier rummaging. Kaiki picked it up, setting it   
absently upon his desk, and started to read it. He almost filed it away as   
he began to read it, closing his eyes in remembered pain. 

Chiaki's frantic voice, rougher and deeper than normal over the phone,   
telling him to get an ambulance to Maron's apartment building as quickly as   
possible. His examination of her, the strain of realizing that she was in a   
coma, unlikely to wake up, and the knowledge that he would have to tell his   
son that the person he loved before any other wasn't going to come back.   
And the memories of his own wife dying in a similar way, never waking up. 

The date of his notes caught his eye, and the correlation with the   
almost-capture of Kaitou Sindbad. A flicker of some forgotten memory -- a   
brief flash of a bloodied Chiaki and then a frantic Sindbad after an   
explosion of some sort -- pushed him onward, and he dove into his notes,   
finding more and more evidence for what he had already suspected -- but had   
not wanted -- to be true. 

Chiaki was Sindbad. And therefore, Maron was Jeanne. 

The real question was... would he be right to confront them about it? 

*** 

A knock at the door disturbed their planning; Chiaki watched Maron peek   
through the spyhole and pause, glancing over her shoulder at the pair of   
them. He smiled at her, and she turned back to the door, carefully   
unlocking it and letting it swing inwards. 

Kusakabe Takumi stood framed by the hallway's lights, looking tired, but   
happy. Chiaki stood up abruptly, eyes narrowing. "What-" 

"Chiaki," Maron said soothingly, gesturing for her father to enter the   
apartment. He grumbled, but sat down again, folding his arms across his   
chest and staring at the older man. It was only after Takumi had taken a   
seat next to Koron, absently reaching for her hand in a gesture that was so   
familiar, and yet he couldn't place it. 

"I came back..." Takumi stopped, cleared his throat, then continued   
doggedly. "... to tell you that I should never have said what I did, nor   
doubted you, Maron. Nor you, Nagoya-san." The formality startled Chiaki   
into sitting down next to Maron, whereupon she leaned her head against his   
shoulder. 

"What I said... I don't even know why I said it. And I don't know if I can   
forgive myself for saying it, much less expect you to forgive me," Takumi   
said, gesturing with his free hand towards them as Maron sat up, her eyes   
filling with tears. "And... Nagoya-san, I cannot thank you enough for being   
here... and saving Maron's life." The last words seemed more painful to say   
than any of the others. 

It was tacit approval of their relationship, Chiaki understood. He'd never   
told anyone save his father -- and that had been half in jest -- his plans   
for his life: his wish to marry Maron and find that happiness he knew she   
was looking for and the hope of helping people by becoming a doctor had   
always come second to his God-given mission. It no longer did. He leaned   
forward, no hint of humor in his expression. "I love Maron. If you do   
anything to hurt her so much again, may God have mercy on your soul." 

"Chiaki!" The protest brought a very reluctant smile to his lips. Maron was 

hauling him backwards, her eyes angry and her lips set in a firm line.   
"Access wouldn't like this. I forgave my parents. You should, too." There   
were only the faintest traces of tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. 

"Chiaki-kun," Koron said, smiling at him through her own tears, "I never   
had a chance to thank you, too. For saving Maron's smiles. And for loving   
her when we weren't able to." 

He merely nodded in reply, taking comfort in Maron's closeness. Things had   
changed once again... for the better. 

*** 

Minazuki looked up at the apartment building, the orange glow of the   
interior lights blocking out all but the brightest stars overhead. He'd   
been standing there for several minutes, simply looking up at the balcony   
that led to Miyako's room, unwilling to take the step that would finally   
close the chapter of his and Miyako's friendship. Whether it would lead   
into something else entirely... would be up to her. 

He'd barely started towards the lit doors when a call from behind drew his   
attention. "Yamato! Wait!" Miyako. She'd been looking for him, and she'd   
forgiven him. Self-doubt faded into the maelstrom of emotion within him,   
leaving only the slightly bitter tang of its passing. 

She stopped only a few steps away from him, breathing heavily from her run. 

She was flushed, more so than would be normal for a simple run. "Yamato,   
I'm so sorry. I shouldn't've doubted you, ever, but I did," she said, her   
purple eyes fixing upon his face. 

"Miyako..." Again, the happiness that small freedom -- the use of her name   
-- gave him washed over him, dimming the worry to nothingness. He turned   
slightly red, looking down at his hands. The next step would be difficult.   
"Miyako, can I ask you something?" 

The perplexed nod she gave him was answer enough. "What is 'love' to you?"   
he asked, the embarrassment having faded. It was important to know. 

She watched him for a moment, suspicion, worry, unhappiness and then   
dawning comprehension flickering across her face. "Love...? Real love is   
worrying about another person's life more than your own. Their happiness   
over yours. But..." Here, her voice dropped off to a whisper, and he   
reached instinctively for her hand. "... love can only be for one person,   
really." 

"No, you're wrong." He held her hand between both of his, warming it and   
savoring the contact. It was Miyako, the one he'd come to admire, and now,   
to adore. "Love doesn't have boundaries. It's not a single thing. You love   
your family. You love Maron-san. Both are real love." Her hand had slipped   
from his, the shock of realization having made her face pale. "And..." Now,   
the embarrassment returned full-force. "I love you, Miyako." 

"But... you can't really love me! You love Maron." Her protests were met by   
his firm denial. He knew his answer on this. Miyako shook her head, tears   
beginning to fill her eyes. At this, Minazuki's doubts made themselves   
known; his confession had hurt her, and he'd hurt her... and it wasn't   
supposed to happen like this. "But I hurt you. I..." The tears overflowed,   
and something within Minazuki ached. 

He closed the distance between them, gently wrapping his arms around her as   
she cried. It was the last act of their friendship together, he knew. And   
oh, how it hurt to know that. Even the gentle breeze, touched with the warm   
scent of a summer night, didn't ease that ache. The only thing he could do   
was to hold her and whisper, "I'm so sorry." 

Miyako's tears slowly dried, and her sobs died down. She remained in his   
arms, her face buried in his light coat. Slowly, so slowly, she looked up,   
her eyes red-rimmed but still beautiful. He braced himself for the   
rejection of all that he wished and hoped for. "I'm so sorry, Yamato. I   
didn't know..." A small piece of his heart shattered. She looked down   
again, then shyly back up. He caught his breath at the tiny smile upon her   
face. "I didn't know I could love anyone else." 

The ache that he'd been trying to hide vanished at her words. Minazuki   
tightened his hold around Miyako, smiling brightly -- she was his! After so   
long, she was his! -- before kissing her gently on her brow, delighting in   
his very ability to do so. 

*** 

Kaiki was reaching for his coat as Yashiro popped her head into the hallway,   
her eyes fastening upon him. There was a happy glint in her eyes, and her   
hair was mussed, as though she'd been out in the wind. "Chiaki and   
Kusakabe-san and her parents are here," she said, reaching for his arm.   
She'd started simply using Chiaki's name, he noticed. She'd grown up more   
than he'd thought. 

The notes dropped to his desk with a swish of paper as Yashro hauled him   
almost bodily out of the room. He chuckled, gently freeing his arm. "Much   
as I love running down hallways with beautiful women, Yashiro-chan, I   
think that our guests would like a bit more... decorum than that," he said,   
his tone merry as he patted her hand gently. She turned slightly pink. 

They walked along, passing the painting. It'd become all the more   
significant than ever now that he knew her secret. Yashiro glanced   
quizzically at him, and he merely shook his head. "It's nothing. Shall we?"   
He gestured towards the sitting room of the suite that Takumi and Koron   
were occupying. 

They knocked at the door, and, receiving a reply, entered. "Chiaki, I found   
him," Yashiro trilled, a faintly sly grin on her face. And, as quickly as   
she'd come, she left, closing the door behind her. 

The meaning behind the rosary pendant at Maron's neck had also become   
clearer than before, as well as Chiaki's constantly protective air. It was   
also understandable, then, that Takumi and Koron looked rather drawn and   
tired, the weariness in their eyes spotted with almost clinical detachment. 

Kaiki held up a hand as his son opened his mouth, a faint smile on his   
lips. He'd decided the moment he'd stepped into the room: he would ask no   
questions. 

"Nagoya-san, we want to thank you." This was Takumi, breaking the tenuous silence   
with his soft words. "So much of what has happened has been because we weren't   
there to help. And you were. And your son... did more than we could ever repay."   
The admission clearly startled Chiaki; he straightened from his casual position against   
one wall, staring at Takumi blankly. Kaiki smothered the urge to chuckle. 

Maron stood up and walked across the room, her eyes glowing with happiness. She   
leaned close, wrapping her arms around him in a spontaneous hug. He stood, frozen in   
place, as he felt her lips brush his cheek gently. Her voice, too, betrayed her emotions   
-- joy dominated, followed by suppressed mirth and the tiniest hint of empathy. "I, too,   
have to thank you for so much," she whispered simply, then released him with a smile. 

He must've looked a fool, standing there with a hand to his cheek and looking rather   
stunned. Maron, still smiling, turned back to her parents. "I want to show you what's   
changed," she said, offering them her hands. Kaiki broke out of his frozen state, a   
slow smile stealing across his features. Maron was happy. Truly happy. 

As they left, Chiaki started to follow them, then paused. Maron didn't even look back;   
she seemed to have expected it. The door shut behind Maron and her parents, and   
Chiaki turned back to his father, his hands stuck in his pockets, the very picture of   
discomfort. "Oyaji..." 

"I won't ask." 

"Thank you." 

"I got a kiss from Maron-chan!" This was a calculated attempt at cutting through the   
suddenly choked atmosphere. The faintly murderous light in Chiaki's eyes told him that   
it'd worked. Hastily -- for he had no wish to be picked up by the scruff of his neck   
again -- Kaiki changed the subject. "Have you asked her yet?" 

Chiaki looked out the window, one hand resting upon the wall beside it. "No. I- we're..."   
He shook his head, frustration evident in his choppy gestures towards the night sky outside.   
"I want to wait... until everything has settled. I've never waited for anything before-"   
A rueful note entered his voice. "-but I have to now. Oyaji-" He turned back, spreading his   
hands in front of him. "-I want to be a doctor. I want to help people." 

To help instead of hurt. To replace instead of steal. Kaiki closed his eyes, nodding.   
"I understand." It was the second time they'd been in complete understanding since Mizuki   
had died, and hopefully the beginning of their family once again. 

*** 

*** 

They were all sitting out in front of the Nagoya mansion, sprawled lazily upon lawn chairs or   
upon the ground, enjoying the clear weather. The final years of high school had wrought very few   
changes in the four of them; Miyako's hair was longer, as was Maron's, and Yamato had grown   
far taller, but they were, in essence, the same as they'd been in those final days of Kaitou Jeanne.   
A ring sparkled on Miyako's hand, a small setting of sapphire in gold. 

Maron was curled up on one of the lawn chairs, toying with a red rose and talking with Miyako.   
"And your father is letting you into the Forensics training program? That's lucky, Miyako --   
you'll be one of the greatest detectives in the world." 

The other woman sighed, plucking absently at the grass. "I won't be able to actually work until I   
finish the training, though. And..." She paused, holding up her hand to the light so that it sparkled   
off the stone. "... there's always this to consider." 

Yamato looked over, setting the article he'd been browsing aside. "I would hope you'd consider it,   
Miyako-/san/," he said, adding the honorific with the teasing note he was prone to these days.   
"Or I would worry." 

Miyako looked down at the grass once again, twisting a few green strands between her fingers. It   
was logical, truly, for her to go into police work; she was expected to, having been so involved at   
such a young age. But was it truly what she wanted to do? "Only time will tell," she murmured, letting   
the blades drift away on the light wind. 

Maron watched her knowingly, her eyes solemn as the blades drifted off. It was difficult to know where   
to go next; they'd left the world of teenagers and high school behind. It was different now that there   
were no jobs to be done, and no dangers to be braved. 

A shadow blotted out the sunlight, and a sudden weight next to her on the lawn chair brought a smile to   
her lips. Automatically, she reached for his hand, and his arm slipped around her waist. "I could tell you   
that there's not enough space on this chair for both of us, Chiaki," she said teasingly, dropping the rose   
to the ground. 

"And I could tell you that you're lying," came his reply. "Of course there's enough room for both of us.   
There always is." 

"Hmm. There always is, isn't there?" 

*** Owari *** 

This is dedicated to Meimi-chan, my dearest imouto and the best prereader ever to see any bit of my   
work. I couldn't've written this as well as it turned out without all her input, and I would've written my-   
self into a hole so many times if she hadn't been there to help me. 

If any of you, dear readers, feel that I've made a mistake or any flaws, please drop me a note at   
keani@hydrid.com, or... see that little box down there? Fill it. Or send me lots and lots of compliments!   
I love compliments, and I love constructive criticism. 

Yes, there's still an epilogue to come in, involving a series of vignettes with all the characters. Pure fluff   
and fun things, mostly. 


	3. Owari

*** Epilogue ***  
  
Reams of fabric lined the walls, a brilliant display of modern and  
traditional dyes blending into a rainbow of color. The long tables were  
pristine, scissors and sewing boxes each in their place, chairs neatly set  
alongside. Along one wall were two desks set at an angle; designer's  
stations, their surfaces spread with paper and pens awaiting use to sketch  
the latest dress or outfit suited to those with taste in fashion.  
  
Ai*Shi had become a reality.  
  
Koron stretched her arms above her head, relaxing muscles that had been  
tense too long. The idea had originally been hers, born of her own previous  
experience in designing and her daughter's innate sense of fashion. "Maron,  
you can come in now."  
  
A gasp from behind her brought a broad smile to her lips. She turned, eyes  
dancing with amusement. "So, do you like it?"  
  
Maron stood just within the doorway, one hand lifted over her mouth in a  
startled reaction. "Mother... I had thought... but how did you get all this  
done in such a short time?" she asked, already starting towards one of the  
designer's desks, fiddling with the paper and examining the pens in seeming  
amazement.  
  
"Maron... it's something that I've wanted to do for a very, very long time.  
Even if I forgot about it for a while, I've always wanted to do something  
important with you. And this-" Koron gestured about the room, smiling.  
"-seemed perfect."  
  
Though a woman grown, Maron had no compunction about hugging her mother  
close, her delight seeming to give her wings of air; she felt so light and  
happy. "It is perfect."  
  
Koron stayed in her daughter's embrace for an unmeasured amount of time,  
drinking in the love she'd missed for so many years, and was only beginning  
to regain. "I thought we could call our business Ai*Shi... true love."  
  
Maron nodded, then stepped away, glancing towards the door she'd so  
recently come through. The half-amused expression on her face was easily  
explained: Chiaki leaned casually upon the frame, his hair falling into his  
eyes and a half-smile upon his face. "I thought today would be the day  
you'd find out, Maron."  
  
Pure wicked mischief replaced amusement in Maron's expression, and Koron  
stepped quickly away under the pretense of fixing something upon her desk.  
She kept a close eye upon her daughter, smothering laughter as she advanced  
upon the poor, helpless man. Well, not 'helpless', precisely, but one gets  
the drift.  
  
"You knew, of course," Maron's tone was light and unforced. "And you didn't  
even tell me, hmm? How awful of you."  
  
Chiaki didn't flinch as she took the final step towards him, flowing up  
against him, her face turned up. He merely grinned devilishly (Koron rolled  
her eyes. Her poor daughter...) and said, "If your skills have dulled so  
much that you haven't even seen builders and trucks in your parents' house,  
then I shouldn't need to tell you, my dear thief."  
  
"Just for that..." She kissed him, taking her time about the process. When  
she stepped back, his hand firmly within both of hers, the evil glint in  
her eyes warned Koron to stay where she was. Flushed, triumphant (and  
thoroughly kissed, it must be said), Maron beamed sunnily up at Chiaki.  
"Just for that, you become our first model. Mother, where do we keep the  
pins?"  
  
***  
  
The small bundle was swathed in excesses of soft white cloth that spilled  
onto Miyako's lap as she rested tiredly upon the hospital bed. Maron poked  
her head around the door, tendrils of hair escaping the loose braid that  
was all she'd had time to put in before racing to the hospital.  
  
Nine months of exhaustion, morning sickness, mood swings and cravings for  
far too many hotcakes were over, it seemed. The result of all this rest in  
Miyako's arms, a shock of purple hair protruding from one corner of the  
white material, and blue eyes that would soon enough turn purple were  
watching her sleepily.  
  
"Maron, didn't Chiaki come?" Vague disappointment was carefully hidden in  
Miyako's tone as her friend entered the room alone. At these words, Maron  
wrenched her gaze away from the baby and smiled at her oldest friend.  
  
"He's waiting outside, making sure that everything is ready for you to come  
home as soon as you're able to." Her nose crinkled in amusement as she  
continued, "He couldn't talk his father into letting you go early, though."  
Her laughter indicated that that had been quite a row, indeed. "May... may  
I see him?" This last was more tentative, softer... and yet, incredibly  
hopeful.  
  
"You only had to ask, Maron." As Maron approached, Miyako shifted the child  
from her arms to the other woman's, absently brushing a strand of hair back  
into place. "This is Shinji."  
  
Delight lit up Maron's expression, and maternal hope -- wistful though it  
was at the moment -- softened her eyes. "He's beautiful, Miyako. And he  
looks so much like you. And..." She glanced up as she seated herself next  
to Miyako, a faint hope in her eyes. "And... he's familiar."  
  
"Access Time."  
  
Maron looked flustered, her eyes widening and her arms, which had been  
gently rocking Shinji, ceasing their calm motion. "But... how could you  
have known? Celcia and Toki told me, but you..."  
  
Miyako stifled her chuckles -- the pain of labor had yet to truly vanish  
from her body -- and shook her head. "I know all of your secrets, Maron. I  
always have. And this one..." She trailed off, glancing at the child held  
so tenderly in Maron's arms. "I knew, somehow, that he was connected to  
you. And to everything else."  
  
"Thank you so much, Miyako..." Tears filled two pairs of eyes, and the two  
friends smiled at eachother over the future of one small family and one  
large tale.  
  
***  
  
His glasses were clumsily removed from behind, the silence of his study  
shattered by a trill of childish laughter. The book he'd been reading - a  
heavy, ponderous tome of medical practice - was quickly set aside, a puff  
of dust escaping the thick pages as it thudded closed. It had been one of  
his father's, at one point.  
  
"Now," Chiaki drawled, blue eyes sparkling as he turned around, leaving the  
  
comfort of his chair behind, "What little imp has my glasses? Could it  
be... a bird?" Another spate of giggles erupted from behind the coatrack.  
"Or is it a little fish out of water?"  
  
The giggles grew louder, and Chiaki smiled. His heavy white coat - the one  
he wore in the clinic, with all its pockets and gadgets - was moving in  
time with the laughter. He took the few steps necessary to reach the rack,  
and the giggles died away into a happily breathless silence.  
  
"I know I heard a little fish laughing at me here..." he said, hands  
inching towards the coat. This was their little game, his daughter's and  
his, and, as with any game, it had its rules and rituals. The sudden gasp  
from within the coat softened the glint of mischief in his eyes to simple  
love.  
  
The coat was slowly and carefully lifted off of its hook, revealing, inch  
by inch, the little thief hidden in its folds, giggling merrily with her  
father's glasses in her hands. "Ah, here's that little one..." His voice  
was warm and laughter-filled.  
  
Natsuki looked up, face creasing into a pout as she returned the other half  
  
of their joke, a mere rote protest of, "Papa, I'm not little!"  
  
He deposited the coat upon the back of his chair, grinning brightly at the  
tiny child. It was odd to see not only pieces of Maron reflected back at  
him, but, here and there, glimmers of himself and of the person he'd known  
as Fin Fish.  
  
She was watching him, her green eyes curious, yet somehow knowing. Chiaki  
sat back down in his chair, holding out his arms in invidtation, and  
Natsuki darted out from behind the coat rack, climbing up on his lap. He  
linked his hands in front of her as she snuggled up close, her light hair  
becoming even more mussed. "Hey there," he said, smiling down at her  
suddenly-solemn face. "Where's my smile gone?"  
  
"Papa, why does Mama love the wind so much?"  
  
It seemed as though she was not only asking about Maron, but about herself  
as well. There was rarely a windy day that did not see Natsuki dancing at  
the whim of the breezes. Chiaki freed a hand to smooth down a wayward  
strand of her hair.  
  
"Maron loves the wind..." He paused; how to explain his Maron's life and  
connection to the very breath of God in simple words? "... because she  
loves the freedom of it, and she knows that, no matter what's wrong in the  
world, the wind will always be there to comfort her and guide her."  
  
The answer seemed to satisfy Natsuki, for she settled her head upon his  
shoulder, happy to simply be with her father. It was odd, Chiaki mused,  
that anyone could ever be as important to him as Maron. And yet, this tiny  
child - his and Maron's - had become a physical manifestation of everyone's  
  
happiness. He'd never expected, in truth, to be a father, in spite of  
everything.  
  
A small, sleepy burble of sound drew his attention to his daughter once  
again. Wisps of her hair were stuck to her cheek, a pale green against the  
warm color of her skin, and her eyes were closed in contented peace. She'd  
fallen asleep, comfortable in his arms.  
  
He was just debating whether to carefully stand and take Natsuki to her  
room when the door opened on silent hinges. Maron stepped in, and, upon  
seeing Natsuki curled up in his arms, smiled. She put a finger to her lips,  
  
then gestured for him to bring the sleepy child.  
  
Natsuki barely even noticed the transfer to her mother's arms, nor the move  
  
to her bed; she clung to a pillow as soon as the covers were pulled up to  
her chin, sinking into a deeper sleep as Chiaki watched, one arm around  
Maron's waist. The left as silently as they cood, leaving the door slightly  
  
ajar.  
  
"I think I've found happiness," Maron said, smiling up at him.  
  
"We both have."  
  
**** Owari ****  
  
I hope you enjoyed the story. In its entirety, it is dedicated to  
Meimi-chan, my dear imouto, who corrected me when I was wrong, waved a  
cleaver at me when I was at the point of abandoning the idea, and is, in  
general a wonderful person.  



End file.
